A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood
by emeraldoni
Summary: Neighbors always hold walls between them. It's when those walls are knocked away that they are neighbors no longer, but something much, much closer...'GaaraxSakura'...WILL NOT BE COMPLETED AS OF THIS TIME.
1. Chapter 1

**It's a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By: emeraldoni

CHAPTER I

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. _

Sakura stared around the dreary space as her body collapsed against the slumping couch. Exhaustion rushed upon her, dulling her ears and closing her eyes. She had hoped that after college things would get easier, that maybe she could enjoy life just a little bit more. That was not the case though, because apparently life seemed and even deeper shade of gray.

Hadn't she wanted to be what she was, a nurse? She had always thought so, even in middle school had she kept that dream alive. Many told her that this was like heaven, at least they had at her job shadowing's. The smiling nurse's faces repeated the same thing, making her childish mind believe every word.

"I would not trade my job for anything. Life is good."

She had been brainwashed. Maybe she had too high of expectations, or maybe she just wasn't good enough. Oh, make no mistake, she did her job, and was praised for the work she did, but maybe she just wasn't fit for the mental strain.

But did that make her weak? She wasn't even a doctor. She was a nurse, for Christ's sake! Yet it seemed that's how it was. Her hours were long and sleep was thin, when she actually got it. Her shifts many times reached the max and over, with little time in between. More often than not she would spend the night at work, finding a an empty cot or stretcher to rest her eyes, hoping that she wouldn't be woken with a new inhabitant ready to take her spot.

She wished she could say it was worth it, either financially or spiritually, but she couldn't. She wasn't saving lives, not really. More often than not she saw a lot of the patients die. that was what happened in an overworked yet under financed hospital. They had neither enough tools nor employees to get things right. Which led to her paycheck, which was pitifully small; puny to the point of being on par with that of a waitress' income.

Sakura let out a soft, despairing moan as she rolled her shoulders. She was supposed to be taking a vacation, but she wondered how long that would last. They would probably call her in.

Dim light faded through the colorless room. All of Sakura's belongings were aged, faded beyond even able to recognize what the color once was. Drooping over the sagging arm of the couch, Sakura stared at the little kitchenette upside down.

Sad as well. The kitchen was barren, cupboards and fridge empty. She didn't even have to look to know, she hadn't been shopping in—what day was it? No matter, but the point was, she was lacking in anything edible, in everything worth anything, basically.

Well, she couldn't let herself starve. Sakura grabbed a hold of the yellow pages, which was aptly accompanying a large stack of books that held up her coffee table in the spot of its missing leg. Flipping through the thin pages, she finally came upon a little pizza place. Not good for her, she knew, but she wanted it. Screw health food, she deserved this.

After dialing the number and ordering a small pepperoni with olives, Sakura collapsed back on the couch, staring at the wall with lackluster eyes. Her gaze focused on a picture hanging from a bent a rusted nail. It showed her foster family, the one which had been her life, what her very soul revolved around. Sakura wished do hard that things could go back to what they once were…

They never would though, that part of her life was over.

Sakura was jolted away from her reverie as a loud knock came from her painted door, and ugly shade of green that flecked at the top from water damage. Hefting herself up, she answered it, absently taking the warm box and giving the pimply delivery boy some cash. He mumbled something, then sped away. Sakura thought the customer service could use some work, but she didn't really care, as long as she got fast, edible food.

She was about to shut her door when something caught her eye. Boxes sat in front of the apartment door next to her. they were taped messily, unreadable scribbles on them which probably signified what was in them.

So, someone was finally moving in. the place had been deserted ever since the last owner had died. He was an older man, crotchety, and had died from a heart attack getting groceries. At least, that's what Sakura had learned, she didn't know if it was true. She had never actually spoken to her neighbor.

Something about this seemed off to the young nurse, and she instantly made a resolution. Setting her dinner down inside quickly, she sped back out to greet her new neighbor. Even if it was an older weirdo who smelled funny, she wanted to be at least a little social. She would not be the wrinkled lady who never talked to anyone and growled at the poor checker at the store. Sakura tried to rationalize the fact the she was over exaggerating just a bit, but instead shoved it into the back of her mind when she could find no plausible reason.

Sakura maneuvered around the boxes—thinking the person probably wasn't very smart to just leave their stuff out like that, and she was surprised none of it had been stolen or rummaged through—and knocked at the door. Counting to ten, she waited another few seconds before she rapped again against the door identical to hers, but damaged even further by unforgiving elements.

Sakura sighed as only silence echoed her knock, and she slowly began to pick her way through the boxes, fingers trailing against the cardboard in an effort to keep her precarious balance. Tripping slightly, she grasped a box, waist high, then gasped as a shadow materialized above her.

It was a man, a kind of scary looking man. She locked her leaf green eyes with his washed out opaque ones, hers in shock while his expressed a glare.

"S-sorry!" She shot out in a rush, cheeks pinking as the man—he was carrying another box identical to the others—stared down at her. Sakura immediately let go of her supporting box, adjusting herself so she was away from her new neighbor's scattered belongings.

"I wasn't prying or anything!" She laughed nervously, "I just came over to greet you!" She reached her hand out in the motion of a shake, "Well, then, nice to meet you! I'm Haruno Sakura!"

Sakura awkwardly pulled in her hand when she realized he wouldn't be able to shake it anyway. His hands were obviously full. She let another laugh, "Heh. Sorry."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"And you would be…" Sakura hesitated, and she vaguely thought that maybe her new neighbor wasn't completely right in the mind.

But he answered, in a simple concise answer, "Gaara."

"Ah! Well, nice to meet you Gaara!" She lied, trying not to look at his tattooed eyes and forehead, or his hair that looked like aged rust. Or the muscles that were revealed adorning corded arms…

She shook her head, "Well, yeah… Do you need any help getting settled in?"

Another silence ensued, until finally Gaara answered impassively, "No."

"Oh, well, okay then… if you need anything, don't hesitate to knock. I live right here, so, you know, yeah…"

Sakura fumbled with the doorknob, before finally stumbling in, "See ya!" She waved, then sealed herself away.

Shit, Sakura thought.

She had made a complete fool of herself.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Gaara settled down on the stained floor as his shoulders slumped in weariness. Surrounding him were all the boxes that had once been littering the hallway outside. Grungy hands gazed back at him as he studied himself. Gaara was sweaty, his body smeared with dirt from the packing and the move. His rear was slightly muddy form slipping once as well. Thankfully no one witnessed that shameful event.

Gaara turned his attention back to the ceiling as he glared at the drywall spirals circling about. Discolored spots peppered it, mutating it in what Gaara assumed was water damage, not that he cared.

Slowly, after reviewing the day, the red-head's mind turned back to the odd girl that had been loitering outside his apartment. She was…weird, of that he was sure. And it wasn't just her personality either, with her fingering his luggage and stuttering and all that nonsense, but her looks were different as well. It was not everyday you saw someone with bright pink and glittering green eyes.

Not that Gaara cared, but it bit at him slightly, the way she was touching his stuff, and the way she was so…friendly. She was obviously not right in the head, else she would have steered clear of him, like everyone else.

Gaara twitched slightly as the off-tune, grating ring of his doorbell assaulted his ears. Why the hell anyone would be visiting him at the time was beyond him, but he went to answer it anyway.

His bare feet padded softly against the cool floor, but he paid no heed. Neither temperature, nor feeling in general, had ever bothered him much. The loose pants and shirt made a _swoosh swoosh _sound that was obscenely loud in the silent apartment, yet ridiculously quiet after the raucous ring of the bell.

Opening the door, Gaara found the person he least expected, the girl next door.

The weird one.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

What the hell she was doing, Sakura hadn't a clue, but after a few minutes of shock at her shameful display of social prowess, Sakura decided to brave a second try. The cooling pizza sat in front of her mockingly as if to say, "You loser, you have to eat a whole one of me by yourself? How pathetic can you get?"

Embarrassment colored Sakura's neck, yet there she stood, facing the enigma at his door with a dorky grin on her face. Again.

"Hey, Gaara!" She waved with a tense hand, "Well, you see, I got this whole pizza, but I was thinking, 'I wont be able to eat all this by myself!' so then I thought of you and how you might not have so much food because you just moved in and I was thinking that maybe you would want some pizza too since you know, pizza is really good, especially the stuff I get from this little place on the corner of 86th street, though the tables are kind of gross, especially with all the gum stuck under them and you never want to touch those tables because you might get diseased or something but the food is okay delivered—"

Gaara held up a hand, taking an unnoticeable step backwards as his face remained completely blank. Deep in his mind, though, blaring warnings were going up, telling him to stay away from this female who could not seem to _shut up. _Finally, he surrendered.

"What?" It was a question, but it sounded more like a defensive statement.

Sakura paused, taking a deep breath. She was in shock herself. She had no idea that it was in her to babble like that. Never had that possibility come to her mind. She kind of wished she could time it, but…well, too late. Apologizing, Sakura got to the point.

"I was wondering if you would want to come over to eat."

"No."

Sakura blinked, then backed away as her face flushed, "Oh, okay, sorry, then, for bugging you. You know, just ignore me, sorry."

Gaara sighed. This girl seemed, well, a slight bit pathetic. Was she really so desperate as to seek his company, then feel upset when he rejected her? Obviously, and it really ate at him.

"Fine. I'll come over."

Sakura did another blink, then grinned, "Really? Great! Wonderful! Come on, then, let's eat before it gets cold!"

He did not want to do this, but he was hungry, and his phone line had yet to be connected to call for delivery.

Dammit.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Sakura leaned back with a contented groan, rubbing her belly with a smile, "That was so goooood. I haven't eaten like that in _forever!"_

Gaara stared blankly at his plate, which held to two pizza crusts, to hers which was empty, then to the box, which was just as barren. He wondered when the last time she ate was.

His eyes widened marginally as her gaze landed on the crusts on his plate, "Hey," She asked slyly, "Are you going to eat those?"

For a moment, Gaara was still, then shook his head, shifting away as her invasive hands slithered over and snagged his food, "Thanks!" She mumbled through a full mouth. Gaara just inclined his head, his eyes riveted on face, which had some sauce on it.

He decided not to say anything.

Sakura grinned at her guest as she finally swallowed the food he gave her, leaning back in her chair once again. Before she could even begin to relax though, and idea popped into her head.

"Hey! Hey! Why don't we watch a movie?"

Gaara looked at his watch, regretful since it was barely passed eight, then shrugged.

"Great! What do you like to watch?"

Abandoning the mess at the table, Sakura strode over to a little cabinet on the floor. With a small flourish, the nurse revealed a case full of tapes. Slowly walking over, Gaara studied the cases with a detached interest, noting that all of them were quite old.

Sakura pointed at one case that might have once been colorful, but had faded quite a bit, "What about this one?"

Gaara shrugged, then walked over to the couch, sinking into the dilapidated piece of furniture while still trying to retain his dignity. He was proud to admit he only held onto the sagging arm for a second. Sakura watched him for a moment, then completely immersed herself in the small variety of videos. With a laugh of glee, she pulled out another indiscriminate case, quickly setting it up in the VCR.

Gaara squinted at the minute television, but said nothing, feeling dread at the thought of sitting over an hour with the annoying girl watching a stupid movie.

"I really love this one!" Said Sakura.

Gaara just sighed, turning his attention to the flashing screen.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

His eyes were going to fall out of his head, he was sure of it. The credits rolled before him and Gaara made a steely resolution. He would never, _ever, _let this girl pick out a move. Never.

Somehow, her tastes were…horrendous. The movie had been a B rated Sci Fi flick, and the moronic characters and plotline nearly killed him. The spiders going after the group of teens—and he wondered if they ever graduated form high school—were made of clay, and quite obviously fake.

What was worse was that Sakura had enjoyed the whole thing, even laughing when the clay figures—supposed to be the stupid characters—were ripped apart by the clay spider. There was even a point when she had clapped her hands. If Gaara was normal, and not a bit on the unbalanced side himself, he might have lowered himself to admitting that she made him a bit…nervous.

Gaara glanced over at the figure next to him on the couch. She was completely conked, splayed over the arm in a complete snooze. With a silent sigh, Gaara got up lightly, quietly shutting off the VCR, then turning off the TV.

Sakura mumbled something under her breath, but Gaara paid no heed, glancing at her as he left the apartment. For a moment, he though he saw tears on her cheeks.

Quickly Gaara convinced himself it was an illusion in the darkness.

Not that he would care anyway.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **I am so sorry! Really, I am! I know I said I would get this out quickly, bit I've been so busy lately. School started, and I've been being worked to the ground. Working thirty hours a week, with school, is exhausting. Then with homework to top if off, I am about ready to buy a gun and eat it.

Also, I wasn't feeling very inspired. Anyway, this was kind of a patchwork, writing bits and pieces every here and there. I'm sorry if this isn't my best work of art, if you could even call any of them that. Anyways, I don't plan on this series lasting long, but we'll see what happens.

Until next time

emeraldoni


	2. Chapter 2

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By: emeraldoni

PART II

_Disclaimer: Nope, nothing. _****

Sakura shifted her weight, a hand on her hip, as she stared in exasperation at the solid door. Her hair was done back in a sloppy bun, and her clothes consisted of a pair of jogging pants and a faded T-shirt. Unpainted toes twitched with impatience in feet placed haphazardly in flip flips that looked as though they were about to dissolve.

Sakura knocked once more, but again, she was left unanswered.

_Oh well…_

The young nurse sighed, turning away from the door and walking down the hallway. She had wanted to talk to Gaara, but it seemed as though he wasn't home. In fact, she hadn't seen him since the first night she met him. Well, it had only been a day, but, well, somehow she felt as though he was avoiding her. Why he would do that, she wasn't sure, but the one time she had seen him, he had completely ignored her, with a well-placed glare.

Well, if that was how he wanted to act, like a kindergartener, then fine. She was just trying to be friendly, was it so hard for him to return the favor? Sure, he didn't look that warm, but if she knew anything, it was that looks can be deceiving. Hell, she had grown up on that philosophy. Anyway, Gaara had seemed really nice. It was rare when she found another person who would watch movies with her, and without complaint too. She could never get anybody else to watch them with her, though the reason remained outside of her grasp.

But Gaara had not uttered one insult, one groan of agony, or any other such negative comment. In fact, now that she thought of it, he hadn't said anything. Well, Sakura knew one thing; her new neighbor was definitely not the talkative type, but she was used to those. Jeeze, she had lived with someone who talked like a mute for half her life.

Sakura groaned as she stared up at the overcast sky. She finally got a vacation—though she couldn't afford to go anywhere—and it rained. That was just her luck. Covering her head with a twenty-five cent newspaper, Sakura ran out through the drizzle, prepared to get cold and soaked.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

"Sakura! Sakura! Over here!"

Sakura grinned in greeting as she shook her clothes out and walked into the dingy little café. Her flip flops squelched, and Sakura had to hold the backs of chairs to prevent herself from slipping on the tile floor, and causing an embarrassing moment—a moment which she wished to never repeat.

Finally reaching the small booth near a large, splattered window, Sakura sat down to safety in front of the spastic, blond haired young man.

"Naruto, you are a moron."

Naruto mocked a pout, but his eyes still glinted with the usual mischief, "Ah, Sakura, I thought you loved me!"

Sakura snorted, then turned to study the paper menu in front of her, "Anyway, what did you want, Naruto?"

If Sakura had been looking at the young mans clear, blue eyes, she would have seen the disappointment and concern that settled in them, but, for some reason, Sakura felt as though she could not look into Naruto's face. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she hadn't talked to him in weeks, though he had called her. Or maybe it had something to do with her ragged appearance. Even with a few days of vacation under her belt, full nights of sleep hadn't been her forte; the darkened hours had left her restless, shadows under her once bright eyes.

"Sakura…"

She looked up, "Hm?"

Naruto sighed, rubbing his forehead in an uncharacteristic show of fatigue, "Why haven't you been talking to us?"

Sakura hesitated, and was about to force an answer out when a scantily clad waitress who smelled of cigarettes came up to their table, "What can I get ya'?"

Both of them ordered; one chili dog and a cheeseburger, with fries. Scribbling it down the lady left, only a whiff of smoke left behind. A silence settled over them, heavy and filled with words reluctant to be spoken.

"So," Naruto started, "How's work?"

And with that safe subject on hand, Sakura started in with foreign exuberance, "It's great, just the other day…"

The food came fairly quickly, and though it was unappetizing, Sakura ate it all. After the meal, she sat back, with a contented sigh, staring out the window. Naruto had already ordered another hotdog, and amusement bubbled up at the fact that Naruto had yet to change. Both of them could always eat a ton, but he always consumed more than her, never hesitating to rub it in her face.

"You're going to get fat, Naruto."

"Pffft! You always say that, but you eat just as much as me."

"I'm not the one getting another order of food."

"You would, but you're probably doing that 'diet' thing again, aren't you?"

"Nope, I'm just doing everything in moderation."

Naruto snorted into his coke, but chose not to comment. Sitting back, his eyes widened over her shoulder and he started to wave spastically at whatever figure had just come in. Sakura groaned, not wanting to meet whatever person Naruto knew who willingly came to this joint. She didn't even deign to look over her shoulder as a hefty shadow appeared on the table.

"Kiba!" Naruto jumped up, a wide grin revealing teeth slightly pointed. He had never like the dentist, so they had never been corrected, "Hey, man!"

Sakura looked up to see a tall man, with wild, short, brown hair and a tattooed face, "Naruto! Hey, what's up?"

Sakura watched as they did some weird hand shaking-guy thing. She rolled her eyes, waiting patiently until their weird ritual finally ended, and they both sat back. Sakura scooted over as the man called Kiba sat next to her.

Sakura jumped slightly as an overlarge dog slithered under the table, hiding from the waitress whose eyes had turned suspiciously in their direction. Tensing as a warm dog butt sat on her foot, Sakura offered a strained smile.

"Hey!" The young man with dark eyes said, "I'm Kiba Inuzuka, nice to meet you!"

Sakura took to the offered hand, shaking it slightly, "Nice to meet you too."

His eyes traveled over her, lighting over her hair, "Nice color, what kind of dye did you use?"

"Uhm, I didn't use a dye. It's natural."

Kiba laughed. Sakura gave an incredulous glance over at Naruto, whose wide smile was rapidly fading, "No, really," Kiba said, "Good one, but what color? It's pretty cool, kind of like those cherry flowers."

"Uhm, yeah, no…it's, uh, natural."

"Yeah, I bet." Sakura could tell he didn't believe her, "That'd be pretty funny if your name was Sakura, huh?"

She stared at him flatly, and his smile minimized just a little, "Or maybe not… that'd be pretty stupid, anyways. Who would name their kid Sakura?"

Naruto's smile had completely disappeared, eyes wide as his head shook back and forth slightly.

Sakura smiled, "Yeah, pretty stupid."

"What's your name, anyway? You haven't said yet."

"You're right, I haven't." Sakura proffered her hand, "I'm Sakura Haruno, pleased to meet you."

"Oh."

And awkward silence ensued, until it was broken by Kiba's nervous laugh and the waitress dropping off Naruto's second plate of food.

And Sakura thought today would go well. How misleading that though had been.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Sakura dropped her keys on the table, a hollow clatter in the silent tomb. A giggle bubbled up as she reviewed her dramatic thoughts.

Maybe she was a little more tired than she previously figured.

Slouching into her bedroom, she quickly discarded the raggedy clothes for another pair just like them, then went back into the living room. Collapsing onto one of the wobbly chairs at the table, Sakura dropped her head into her arms, trying to avoid the self-inflicted accusations floating about her mind.

Naruto had gotten suspicious, no surprise there. She should have known that he would force her out sometime. He had always been her closest sibling. The fact that they weren't related by blood meant nothing to her, that they were foster siblings hadn't anything to do with it; he was her life, and vice-versa.

And, of course, they had been through so much together that the bond was thicker than blood could ever be. She should have known that concern would be blatant on his part. It was just… everything, her life, her job… everything was something Naruto would bring up which she wanted to avoid. Naruto would want to help, and doing that would make problems—mistakes—so obvious to her that her attention couldn't help but be attracted to it.

Sakura was jolted out of her musings when a knock erupted from the door. She jerked, groaned, then hefted herself up to answer the damned whatever-itwas.

Unlatching the barrier and pulling it open, another annoyance faced her.

"Hey, Forehead girl, looks like you finally have another neighbor."

Sakura moaned, slumping against the trim with a defeated expression, "What do you want, Ino-pig?"

The blond laughed as she twirled her long ponytail, hanging over her a purple clad shoulder.

"I just wanted to visit my favorite neighbor, you know?" She leaned forward conspiratorially, a smirk on her pretty features, "So, I heard the new neighbor is a guy," Her brows waggled, "A _young _guy."

Somehow, Sakura felt as though she has made much more sounds of exasperation than normal lately, and Ino was just adding to them.

"Ino, seriously, you have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh? So he _is_ young?"

Sakura rolled her eyes, "You're an idiot."

"Yeah, but at least I have a boyfriend."

Sakura shifted feet as she fell into the old routine of their usual banter, "Not for long," She mocked, "Not if you keep looking for other men,"

Ino's smile grew a little wider, and Sakura wouldn't be surprised if pointy little teeth poked out of her lined lips. The blonds' eyes sparkled as she answered, "There's a lot of fish in the sea, why not test them all out?"

"I can't believe Shikamaru deals with you."

"Hm! I'm to pretty for him to let go."

Sakura's scathing response was stifled as someone else joined them in the hallway. Ino's eyebrows shot up, almost touching her hairline as her lips twitched. Both pairs of eyes followed the man's progress down the hallway, shocked thoughts filling their head.

"Is he really…?" Muttered Ino, but fell silent as he walked passed her.

He completely ignored them, his painted face calm as his silent form clumped by. In fact, Sakura's eyes felt completely glued onto the man. He was so… odd looking. She wondered whether the make-up was permanent or not. If not, it must take hours in the morning.

Ino smirked as the man stopped at Gaara's door. Sakura new for a second that Ino though that the man was her new neighbor. That notion was wiped clean away when the man started banging on the door.

"Gaara! Hey, Gaara! Open up!"

A few silent seconds later, the door opened, revealing an impassive, and mussed up Gaara. The red-head glared at the clown for a few moments, then made to shut the door. A glance at Ino showed Sakura that Ino's eyes were comically wide.

The clown laughed, sticking his foot in the door, "Ah, come one, Gaara, let you old brother check out the new place. I want to see."

Gaara glowered for a moment, "Kankurou…" but the man did not even flinch.

"You can't use that on me, remember what the shrink said? Play nice."

The girls watched as Gaara stalked off to the deep confines of his apartment, Kankurou following close behind. An echo filled the hallway as the door shut. A few moments later Ino clapped a hand on Sakura's shoulder.

"Well, good luck, girl. You're going to need it."

Sakura scowled, "He's a lot nicer than he looks."

"Of course, the therapist told him to 'play nice'." Walking away, Ino waved over her shoulder, "Good thing I've been staying with Shikamaru lately. If you need me, you know where to find me."

The pink haired nurse shot her a glare, then subsided back into her home. Glowering as the carpet, she muttered obscenities to herself.

"Stupid Ino. He really isn't that bad… I think."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Well, second chapters up. I am going to die, please kill me. My parents freaked out the other night. We were at dinner, and—keep in mind I have never don't this before—I just started crying, in the restaurant.

I've been having some problems lately. But anyways, enough about me, that's not why you're here. I will hopefully get the next part out, but I'm not sure when. For some reason I just haven't been that into this story. At least, not yet. If anybody can offer any inspiration, pictures, reviews, other stories, I would happily embrace it. Thanks a lot.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	3. Chapter 3

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By: emeraldoni

PART III

_Disclaimer: I am not a producer—only a rabid fangirl—of Naruto. _

Gaara crossed his arms tight over his near bare chest as he glared out into the sea of sweating bodies. Blinding lights flashed, souring the darkness in a slicing array of movement back and forth over the dance floor. A rainbow of prime colors flashed over shining heads, and Gaara felt his jaw clench as another drunk pounded on the lacquered wood in an attempt to intoxicate their self even further.

Hands twitching, fingers flexing, Gaara slowly turned his attention to the man interrupting his sulk that was more like anger. At least, he liked to think it was more like anger. Gaara did not sulk. Shooting a dagger of a glare, Gaara made it known that the annoyance of a man better get the hell away from him, but to no avail. He was way too sloshed to notice even a stampede of naked women, never mind a glare.

"One—" The man swayed a bit on his feet, before steadying himself against the counter, "One shot, man."

Gaara growled, but obliged, hoping the idiot would die of liver failure, or alcohol poisoning. Whatever was quicker.

Leaning up against the wall, in a shaded corner, Gaara tried to make it seem as though he wasn't there. Maybe if he was unnoticed—because obviously a well-place glower wasn't working—then nobody would come looking for more drinks to further degrade their bodies. This place was practically crawling with morons that Gaara would never want to have anything to do with. Not that he would ever want to actually associate with anyone in the first place, but these were the people he was violently opposed to.

And he being violent was what got him into this mess in the first place. Damn Kankuro, blackmailing him to be bartender for a night at his stupid club. Gaara cursed his knowledge of the evil drink—which got him into more messes than he cared to admit, though he wasn't the one intoxicated, never would he get caught in a loss of awareness like that brought on by alcohol—if he never knew about bartending, he would have never been forced into this.

Of course, maybe the fact that he illegally owned firearms and some other odd assortments had something to do with; wrapped up with the fact that Kankuro had found his stash. It wouldn't really have been a big deal, in the usual circumstances, but the fact that he had finally been caught for a misdeed, and now had a probation officer _and _therapist…

Well, the consequences were not what he wanted to deal with at the moment.

Damn Kankuro. Damn Temari.

Scowl deepening, Gaara's tattooed eyes furrowed as another lush slapped their hand for more, searching for him, but unsuccessful. Gaara silently thanked his dark clothes; the baggy faded pants, and ripped, black shirt that barely covered his lean chest. Luckily for him, his hair was the not too bright of a color, like some people he could name, but wished not to contemplate on.

"Hey, Gaara! Where the hell are you?"

Growling, Gaara stepped from his shadow, sending a dark look at his brother, who returned it, though not as fierce, and not serious at all.

"Are you trying to put me out of business? These people need drinks. Get 'em."

Gaara snarled, his eyes bloodshot from stress, furthering their red venture in rage.

"Fuck you, Kankuro."

Kankuro shrugged, his painted face indifferent yet sly. Kankuro realized he would pay hell for his attitude—and normally he would never act this way, especially with Gaara, who was a little unbalanced—but he couldn't help it. It was too good of a chance to pass up.

Gaara was about ready to commit another felony when a soft hand restrained him with an iron-clad grip on his shoulder. Straitening in a rigid stance, Gaara jerkily turned his head at the offender.

"Calm down, Gaara, don't let him get your goat."

Relaxing just slightly, Gaara silently acknowledged his sister with a barely visible nod of the head. Kankuro just frowned.

"Go away, Temari."

"Shut up, I own half of this establishment, and you can't order me around."

Kankuro, though he prided himself living on the dangerous side (who couldn't with siblings like his?) he was smart enough to know when to back down.

"Whatever." Slouching away, he shot them a petulant glare over his black-clad shoulder, then went to commiserate like a good owner with some dancers.

Temari watched him until he disappeared, then turning her shrewd eyes back at Gaara.

"So," She said flatly, hands on hips that held up short skirt with intricate violet swirls over it, "are you holding up well in your knew apartment?"

Gaara shrugged, staring off into the crowd, not much for conversation. Temari's face darkened slightly, but she was used to her brother's antisocial tendencies, and just shrugged it off. Her head quirked to the side, giving any admirer a better look at her eccentric hair style.

"Well, I'll have to come check it out." She didn't miss the flicker of his eyes. He obviously didn't want that. He had always been distant, "Or you could just come visit us."

There was no response again, just a shrug of his shoulders. His face had lost its obvious display of anger, instead transforming back into its stony impassiveness. Temari sighed as she turned her attention back to the rumbling mass, waving to the overly loud beat raging from strategically placed speakers. There was no band booked for the night, so a DJ had come instead.

Temari turned her gaze back to Gaara, "Hey—" The words died on her lips as she noticed a very unusual change in expression. Somehow, his eyes had widened and narrowed in almost the same moment, as his focus was riveted on one precise motion in the crowd… or more aptly, traveling through the crowd. With amazing quickness, Gaara slid into the shadows once more, body tense as a flash of pink plagued the reflection of his pale green orbs.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Every cuss word Sakura had ever known (and that was quite a few, considering her upbringing) flew through her head as she pushed through the crowd, attempting to get to the empty table she had glimpsed in the corner. She should have known this would happen, that she would be dragged to this place, then promptly ditched.

Yeah, Ino meant well, but she could stuff away her naturally flirty tendencies only so much, and being in a club was too much for senses. Not that Ino would ever actually seriously consider any of the men she met. She had Shikamaru, after all, but the girl was outgoing and instinct could not be quenched.

Sakura sighed, then pushed through another rowdy, completely sloshed, group of dancers, as her haven came into view. A small booth, set in inky darkness and a probable set of stained cushions, finally closed into fingers reach, and Sakura let out a relieved sigh as she felt the unrestrained bliss of pillowed leather underneath her rear.

Maybe it was nice to get out once in a while, but this place was a little too much for her, considering she hadn't been to a club in…what year was it?

No matter, the point was that Sakura knew this wasn't for her, despite that she had been dragged into it, literally. Pulling at her skirt, black and strait that reached her ankles, and then her shirt, which was kind of baggy, but still too slim for her tastes, Sakura let her eyes roam the area which seemed small but was, in reality, quite spacious.

Bobbing heads and glittering bodies jerked back and forth in a wild dance that Sakura couldn't help but blush at. The people here…well…modesty didn't seem to be such an issue with them.

Averting her eyes, Sakura watched as a blond woman behind the bar spoke to someone in the shadows. Squinting, Sakura thought she saw a head of red hair and darkened eyes, but discarded it as an illusion. Leaning back, Sakura tried to filter out the head-banging noise as she shut her eyes. As she breathed in and out calmly—taught to her by one of the classes she took in medical school, dealing with the psychological aspect of patients—Sakura found that she _really _needed something to drink.

Her throat was dry, and it felt as though the epithelial tissue would just peal off right there. Groaning at the thought of having to fight her way through the crowd, _again _(though it wasn't that much of a distance, compared to the first trek through pure, unadulterated frustration) Sakura hefted herself up, pushing her way through.

Reaching the bar, Sakura found the blond woman mixing some drinks for some other clubbers, and so she waited her turn, shifting from foot to boot-clad foot.

Emerald eyes darted from here to there, studying the glasses of pretty colors (which she would never drink anytime soon) her eyes finally alighted upon the figure in the corner. Here eyes widened as she recognized him.

"Gaara!" She shouted with an energetic wave, leaning over the counter to get a better look at him. He seemed to be scowling at her, but she couldn't really tell, considering the shadows wrapped around him, and so she ignored it.

"Gaara, Come here!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blond woman looking at her with some curiosity, and not a little bit of apprehension. Maybe this was a friend of Gaara's? Or something more? Sakura made a note to ask him later, though she doubted he would answer.

In fact, he seemed to be avoiding her. Oh, he was walking over, but at such a slow pace that she could say even a slug was faster. Offering an excited grin, though she knew he probably felt the exact opposite, Sakura bounced slightly on the soles of her feet, tapping her fingers on the shiny, but slightly smudged, wood.

Stopping in front of the counter, in front of her, he crossed his corded arms, a scowl on his dark face. Sakura's eyes bulged slightly at the sight Ino would surely squeal at, but Sakura composed herself with a grin and the barest flickering of the eyes.

"What are you doing here? Do you work here?"

"No."

Sakura sat down at a barstool, resting her feet on one of the metal rungs as she folded her hands under her chin in fists, "Did you come with a friend then?"

"No."

"Oh, okay, uhmmmm."

_Dammit! I will not give up!_

"So…"

Gaara glared, muscles flexing in annoyance, "What do you want?" He practically snapped.

Sakura, falling back on her telltale nervous laugh, answered, "I just wanted to say hi."

"You said that. And more."

Feeling a tinge of upset, Sakura cast her voice with sarcasm, "Well, soorrryyy. It must be so horrible to talk to me when you could be doing some thing _much _better."

"Yes."

Though the building was anything but silent, it seemed a sort of sound void had surrounded the two, tension building up inside like a stopped hose. Slowly, the harsh eyes Sakura had been holding slowly softened, a laugh bubbling up inside her throat.

"Hey, want to go somewhere?"

"No."

"Great! I know this really good café just a block form here. Let's go!"

Gaara just turned away, abruptly freezing when her found icy eyes barely inches away from him.

"I think you should go." Said Temari, her voice booking no argument.

"No."

"Yes."

Gaara's lip upturned in a mini snarl as he tried to walk away. An unforgiving hand grabbed his bicep though, and Temari manhandled him into facing her again.

"_Go."_ He voice was low enough for Sakura enough to be deaf too, but loud enough for him to hear the resolution in her voice, "I know about the guns too. Go. The therapist said you should get out. Here's your chance."

Gaara was far from happy, but the threat imprisonment (by his siblings, no less) hung over his head, as well as the thought of a stupid shrink's lecture. Letting loose a growl, Gaara whirled around on Sakura, who's expression had fallen into doubt, and snarled out, "Fine. Let's go."

"Ah! Okay."

Meeting him at the end of the bar, she grabbed his hand while pulling him out of the crowd, as though he was unable to himself.

"This is just great!" She shouted over the music while threading her way through the crowd. Sakura noticed that they moved much more easily when she had Gaara with her, "I think you'll like this place!"

Gaara just scowled, a regular appearance that night, and kept his eyes locked on the bright pink blob.

_Stupid…_

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

The brownish liquid swirled, mesmerizing, as the pale tendrils of cream slowly dissolved into the once dark tea. Sakura always loved doing that, especially when it was in that halfway state, when both were merging, but not yet dissolved. The fact that it distracted her from the awkward silence only deepened her fondness for the little quirk.

Sighing, Sakura looked up at Gaara, "That girl forced you to come, didn't she?"

Gaara shrugged, and untouched mug of black coffee in front of him.

"Is she your girlfriend?"

An expression of disgust slid across his face, "No, my sister."

"Oh, really? You guys don't really look alike."

"I know."

Sakura smiled up at him, the table with crumbs a large distance in between them. Soft light danced merrily against whitewashed walls as the near dead café surrounded them with a silence that made one want to whisper. Only a few customers speckled the place, breaking the quiet only enough to make a person not completely uncomfortable.

They sat next to a window, their reflections staring back at them from the darkness outside. It was pretty late to be out at a café, almost ten actually.

"I never had any sisters. I was the only girl in the family." Sakura said, reminiscing just a little, then shaking it off, "I guess I'm kind of a guy myself. Kind of."

A nonexistent brow quirked up, as Gaara started down at her. Was it just her, or did she sense a bit of amusement in his solemn eyes? Keeping with that line of conversation, Sakura kept talking.

"Really, in high school some even mistook me for a guy. They thought I was punk, because of my hair." Yes, there was definitely a spark in that rock-like face.

"This one time a girl asked me out. It wasn't until I told her my name that she figured it out, you know, that I was a female. I think it was the baggy clothes and the really short hair."

Letting out a relieved breath, Sakura took a slow sip from her tea, happy that it had cooled to a tolerable temperature. Grabbing some of the fake sugar packet from the middle of the table, Sakura ripped it open, promptly dumping them on the table.

Gaara couldn't resist, "What are you doing?" It was a dark question, almost childlike, with a certain gothic pout, but it was something. Sakura grinned.

"I really like making swirls with it. The table's dirty already anyway, so it doesn't hurt."

Gaara studied her as she hunched over her mess of sugary swirls and circles, then an added smiley face for good measure. This girl was odd, different, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Most people shunned him, turning their backs on him at his style or expression, and a lot of them from the tattoos around his eyes. Yet here was this woman, who knew him only from a dastardly first expression, and she still pursued friendship. _With him._

With him.

It made him suspicious, paranoid even. Here was this woman, a neighbor, who kept pestering him and acting _friendly._

"What…" He whispered out as she glanced up at his slicing of the companionable silence, at least it was companionable in her opinion.

Gaara's voice grew only harsher though, "_What do you want?" _He hissed, his brow furrowed as his eyes lashed out with an unprovoked anger.

"What?" Asked Sakura, confused from the sudden outburst, "What do you mean?"

"Why do you follow me around?" His voice was soft yet stony, obviously stating his upset at the situation, though what the situation was Sakura was left completely in the dark about.

"Why do you speak to me?"

"W-well," Sakura stuttered, "because…"

"Why?" He interrupted, "Do you insist upon smiling at me?"

Sakura opened her mouth to try to get a word in, but was cut off before she even started.

"Why? Why do you insist upon acting like a _friend?"_

Sakura was shocked, to say the least. Her mouth hung open, eyes wide as she struggled to find an answer. She couldn't very well say that she was challenging herself, trying to find a friend, trying to become more social. But apparently Gaara wasn't looking for an answer, because he stood up in a concise, but violent motion, the screech of wood on tile piercing through the murmuring silence.

Throwing down some cash, the red-head strode out of the café in a rush, face fierce as anger clouded about him in a blatant display of anxiety.

Eyes glued to the swinging door, Sakura slowly closed her mouth. Staring down at the table, she saw that the money was more than enough to cover the bill.

What a day.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Sorry, I know it's a bit late, but I had to work all weekend (up at 5 AM! 'Till 3 PM!) and then there was homework. A speech for history, A&P studying, pre-calc. HW…All that good stuff.

I wanted to thank everybody though. Going through are hard time is, well, rough, but with people supporting you it makes it infinitely easier. Your concern was amazing, and I felt much better. So, Thank You.

Unfortunately, I may not be able to update for about a fortnight, my A&P midterm is coming up, and I seriously need to study. I'll try though. But there is a chance I won't finish it. Again, I'm sorry.

Also, in the future, I will try to reply to your reviews, but I don't know how well I will do. I will make an attempt though, especially with how comforting you've all been, and few specific people (you know who you are) who've raised my spirits.

I hope you enjoyed this…

Until next time,

emeraldoni


	4. Chapter 4

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By: emeraldoni

CHAPTER IV

_Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, happy now?_

Sakura flipped the blinds closed with a snap she hoped no passerby noticed. Feeling like some type of detective, or more aptly, a criminal, she stumbled around her apartment with the lights out, only the filtered glow of streetlamps casting odd shadows on the laminated floor. Cursing as she stubbed her toe against a foreign object, probably that new brick she had gotten to help support the coffee table, Sakura collapsed against the couch as she rubbed her foot.

"Dammit…"

How could she have forgotten? Was she just stupid, or just mentally insane? Really, who forgot these things?

Sakura flinched as another knock came to her door and once again she thanked Kami the fact that she lived in an apartment, rather than a house that could easily be Toilet Papered. Heaven forbid she should have to clean up such a mess during her vacation, or at any time, for that matter.

Yes, she was glad she didn't have a house. Really, she was. Especially considering the fact that she had forgotten it was Halloween; The time when nasty little chitlins ran about in devilish costumes and stole money from your pockets.

Damn, she already felt like a horrible old hag. For some reason though, Sakura didn't feel so guilty; probably had to do with the fact that, as a child, she never had the chance to go Trick-or-Treating. Never had she dressed as a witch or a bride—and oh, she would definitely not go there—and never did she have a pumpkin-head pail filled with sticky sweets that would be stashed away and not found until a year later.

Sakura sighed as she struggled with a puffy coat, hopefully enough to protect against the cold.

She shouldn't feel regret though, because she had some much more than other kids, what with her… family. Oh, maybe in the traditional sense, people would fill pity, but she knew, though it once was hard, she was loved.

Peeking out of her door, making sure there were no little goblins about with grasping, pudgy fingers, Sakura stepped out, wallet in hand.

It was tough, very tough. Her family had been so…odd. Different in a sense that made her a bit of an outcast with her schools mates, though it was the same for the others in her family as well (kind of, two out of three, at least). Yet when she went home, greeted by an annoying—secretly welcomed—hug, a laid-back "Yo," and a dark, superficial glare… well, all was put right.

Nipping wind caught at her sleeves as Sakura wrapped her arms about herself, shoving the nostalgic thoughts away. Giggles came from waist tall, little people in a variety of costumes. A smile graced the nurses lips as she watched them, turning away to speed up her step to gain some warmth in her stiffening muscles. She probably should have put something warmer than sweat pants on (was that all she going to wear on her vacation? How pitiful…) but she wanted to make this as quick as possible.

Shadows cast about in abstract angles, a painting of yellow, brown, and blue tones that whispered of subtle text completely ignored by many, Sakura a part of the mass. With a relieved sigh, Sakura jogged up to the pale blue glow of the convenience store. Wrappers littered the ground, glittering with a deceiving brightness under the stores flickering neon signs.

Sakura let loose a gust of held breath as she stepped into the warm, blinding space which was nearly deserted. The older man at the counter completely ignored her, Sakura returning the favor as she headed strait for the candy section. Greeting her was a wide array of various chocolates and other imaginative concoctions that were sweet in fat.

Sakura wished she didn't undeniably love them. Maybe she needed candy rehab, too get rid of the sweet tooth and the extra flab that had accumulated around her waist. Sakura was certainly no stick, and she easily admitted that. She couldn't be anorexic if she tried (and believe it, she _had_ tried).

With a glimmer in her eye, Sakura fingered an exaggerated amount of mini-sized candies that would most likely end up in her cupboard, or closet…or bedside table.

Sakura refrained from asking the checker to double bag the unneeded food—though the bag looked _way _overstuffed, especially considering she had added Cheesy Poofs to the list and some soda: diet, she tried to reassure herself—the man looked as though ready to snap someone's head off with pinky toe, or something equally awful.

Sakura regretted her choice though as soon as she walked out of the little, bedraggled store, because she swore her arms were going to snap off. What with all she had bought, cramped into only two bags—_and not double bagged_, she reminded herself—Sakura knew something would go flying into a gutter before she got home. At least, with her luck something of that sort would happen.

So preoccupied with her thoughts, Sakura paid no heed to the looming figure walking the opposite direction as she, strait towards her. She cursed under her breath as she tried to stop the plastic form cutting off the circulation in her digits, only to shriek as she collided with a very solid figure.

Candy and junk food scattered (as she predicted) and Sakura let loose some more colorful language as she turned to glare at the offending person… who had just so happened to completely ignore the accident and just walk away.

"Hey!" Cried Sakura, fuming cheeks pinker than her concealed hair, hidden under the hood of her jacket.

"Hey, Buddy!"

With a furious twist in her gut, and a thoughtless action, Sakura reached out to grab the man with numb fingers…

And was met with ebony eyes, a pair she hadn't seen in years.

"Sasuke…?"

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Gaara growled at the three-millionth knock his door had received, along with the whispered giggles from midget sized annoyances who he would most certainly not participate in this damnable holiday with.

Fuck Halloween.

Relaxing as the small patter of disappointed feet faded away, Gaara turned back to staring raptly at the swirling, grainy surface of his table. Well, he had been focused on shining an already too clean of dagger (which he wasn't allowed to have, but did anyway) but for some reason that had quickly lost his participation, only to lie in glittering, alluring malice on the table he was currently lost in.

With a sigh, Gaara leaned back in the darkness (for his lights had been turned off to deter unwanted visitors) arms crossed as he tore his gaze away from the wood to face the ceiling, eyes closed as he tried to calm his mind like the Shrink had taught him.

Oh, he could do it his way, like he did every night, but the Shrink didn't like that way, and so he was supposed to meditate that way.

For all it was worth, he tried, but it was too below him to pursue, so he just went back to his normal form of self-calming meditation.

Gaara tensed though, as a clatter sounded in the hallway. Dark eyes flickered to the doorway, suspecting another masquerade of toddlers, only to be shocked with a different sound.

Getting up carefully, as though broken glass protruded from the floor, he walked over to his door, curious eyes in an uncharacteristic show of wideness. Callused hand slowly gripped the icy doorknob, bare feet widening slightly.

Was that really…?

Was that crying?

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

A violent motion, a rush of shock and Sakura was sent stumbling back to the ground. Wide green eyes stared up at the shadowed man as he stared down at her impassively, his eyes glinting coldly.

"Don't touch me." He said, and with a hole in her chest, Sakura realized that she was unrecognized. It was Sasuke, her Sasuke, their Sasuke: the Sasuke that had left them those years ago, his location foreign and wrapped in mystery, completely unknown.

"Sasuke…" she whispered again, face prickling, eyes feeling as though thousands of tiny needles were poking into them. Her rear was cold and damp from being shoved unto the unyielding cement. Sasuke didn't hear her voice either, instead, with another sharp glare, he turned his back, walking away with that all too familiar proud gate and strait set of shoulders.

Staggering up, Sakura reached a hand out, "Sasuke!" she cried, tears falling.

Once, when she was young, too you to clearly remember, someone told Sakura that there were two different sets of tears: Hot and cold. Hot tears were ones of passion, pain, and recovery, of hurt, injured hope.

Cold tears were different. They were of those truly despairing, of those bereft of hope and moving on and healing. They froze on warm cheeks and called only sadness and pity to them. Cold tears never screamed, always silent, lost in shadow.

Sakura's tears felt cold.

She had thought she had gotten over this before, but seeing him again had ripped the scar right off, leaving only a bleeding wound, pumping out her life fluids, unrecoverable. How could she be subjected to this more than once? Family disappearing had to be one of the hardest tragedies a person could go through, but then having them return, in the most unexpected places, and have them _not recognize you…_

A despairing sob wracked her frame as she fell back in a slump on the icy sidewalk.

He had ignored her.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Gaara found a hunched over, bundled up figure curled up against his neighbor's door, shuddering with stifled sobs and heaving sides. He stared, as though willing the person to stop, get up and walk away, all better, without having to force him self to help them. There was something about crying that got to them, especially when it was as pitiful as this.

With a sigh, Gaara reached out to touch the person lightly on the shoulder.

Sakura twitched violently as her head jerked up to stare at the offender, only to reveal tattooed eyes staring down at her, blank but a little wider than usual. Something about seeing Gaara's face just made her cry all the harder, though she hated it and wished to stop, it just kept coming.

Something about people being around her when she was so vulnerable just made it all the worse. She desperately hoped that maybe he would just walk away.

He didn't, instead grabbing the collar of her jacked and hauling her up to her feet.

Sakura was completely silent, mouth agape as blotchy eyes widened with shock and outrage and a million other swirling emotions that she was just too stunned to express.

"Sakura." He said, gripping her upper arm as he steered her—still too shocked to do much—into his own apartment. A dreary darkness met her eyes, blinded by shadow, until a flick met her ears, along with bright flooding of light into the small space, almost identical to her own abode.

"Sit." He said stoically as he gently pressured her into a chair, next to a table littered with weapons. In some vague, distant part of her mind she realized that she was supposed to be disturbed by that, but, somehow, it didn't bother her at all. In all reality, she was too dazed to be disturbed by anything.

(Though she had noticed that Gaara _wasn't _wearing a shirt and, well, he didn't look half bad: Especially with the sweats riding a bit low.)

Eyes following the redhead around the small kitchen space, Sakura snuffled, and as the shock wore of, the hurt hit her again and the crying started once again. Gaara glance her way, his movements becoming more hurried in the hope of making her stop. Soon.

What could make the normally jovial girl so upset was beyond him, and he hoped—not that he would ever admit it—that it wasn't because of his outburst the a few nights ago. In some corner of his mind, one that was, on average, ignored, he had felt a bit guilty for yelling at her, and the fact that he had found her balling her eyes out just a few days later didn't help assuage the nagging feeling at all.

He sighed as finally the telltale whistle of the teapot went off, and quickly poured the steaming water into a chipped mug with a soothing teabag. He hoped the package was right, and that it really was calming. Gaara, for one, had never drunk it. He hadn't even bought it; it was a gift from Temari, kind of a joke, and kind of not.

Sakura blinked up at the cup held before her, "Take it." Said Gaara, setting it on the table before her, before seating himself in a chair as well, the only other chair she noticed. She assumed the third one was the broken pile of sticks in the corner, though how it had ended up that way she didn't want to learn.

Finally calming, tears staunched, Sakura offered a wilted smile, "Thanks…" She sniffed the tea, wrapping cold finger around the flowered porcelain, which only made her smile widen just a bit more.

Gaara stared at her, arms crossed, muscles taught, revealing how tense he was. Sakura noted the lithe way his body slumped into the chair; how he was thin but muscled at the same time, how his body was… really nice.

Shifting her eyes, Sakura focused her attention on the little whorls flowing across the table's surface.

Gaara felt like groaning. Was she being purposely difficult, or was she just stupid? Couldn't she just spill her problem, get better, then leave? Apparently he would have to—he felt disgusted with himself—probe.

"Sakura." He said, feeling even more uncomfortable by the second, especially when she looked up at him. He made sure his expression was one that would urge her to speak, thus he wouldn't have to.

Sakura caught the hint.

"Sorry," she muttered into her tea, "I'm really sorry…"

She heaved a sort of dry sob, a shaky breath meant to calm her self into speaking without tears.

"I just… I saw someone who has been…gone…for a long time."

Gaara leveled his gaze back to her, "Hm."

Sakura sighed, finally feeling stable enough to start into a normal conversation. With a minute laugh, she completely turned the conversation.

"So, how have you been doing, Gaara?"

He blinked, taking more than a moment to answer, "Fine."

"Good, good…Ah! Shit!"

Gaara jumped just a second after Sakura did, a woody clatter filling the small space, "I left my bags on the street!" she exclaimed. Gaara, raising a brow, lowered himself back into his seat, arms crossing once more.

"Hey! What kind of reaction is that?"

Gaara resisted the urge to role his eyes, "They're gone by now."

Sakura puffed in an offended matter, huffing until the outrage depleted out of her, hot air near tangible in the hanging silence. With a dramatized sigh, Sakura collapsed in her chair, slumping even more than Gaara.

"You're right. There's no way they're still there. If the little mini monsters didn't get them, some bum did."

"_Mini monsters?"_

Sakura laughed out loud, "Yeah, the little kids running around in costumes. They're cute and all, but, well… you know."

Gaara did indeed know, and he gave a little nod to agree with her. A small silence ensued, not uncomfortable, not comfortable, but just _there._

"You know," Sakura finally said, softly, eyes directed at him, "some say that only a small percentage has to do with actually talking, and that most of it is body language." Her small hands plucked on a loose string attached to her puffy coat.

"You're not that hard to read."

Gaara stayed silent, slightly offended at her blatant comment and the rest shocked at her observation. Most of his life he had been repeatedly told how hard it was to read him. Then, there was this girl, crying just a few minutes ago, making a theory on him that was, well…

He was left speechless, for lack of a better comparison.

Sakura's lips tilted upward, "I've had practice with impassive boys,"

'_Boys?' _Was Sakura calling him a boy? He was in his mid twenties.

She went on, ignorant of his indignation, "I used to live with one, you know. Two, really, the other wore more of mask—literally and figuratively—while Sas—"

She paused, lips quivering, drawing in a trembling breath, and moving on, "He was really quiet, didn't like people so much, and had an absolutely _horrible _superiority complex. Yet…he was in pain. We weren't really related, none of us, but we still were together. I probably had the happiest past out of them all."

"Naruto… Naruto lived on the streets all his life. He was abandoned, you know. He's like my brother. He can make friends with anyone; really loud, obnoxious, annoying, but can make anyone feel better, no matter what."

Gaara watched as Sakura's eyes faded in and out, not seeing anything in front of her, but something long gone, something he would never see.

"I just saw him a couple days ago. I think even you would like him."

Gaara snorted silently.

"Then there's Kakashi. He took us all in. he was kind of forced to, actually, but I think he loved us all the same."

Gaara wondered why she was telling him all this. Then again, he had wanted her to get this off her chest so she could leave with out tears (and him without guilt). Yet somehow, even though his reasons for hearing her out were rude and insensitive, he still found himself riveted upon her words.

"And, guess what," Gaara didn't respond, but Sakura rambled on anyway, like a broken record, "I haven't once seen his face. I've known him for over a decade and I've only seen his eyes—they're mismatched, by the way. He always keeps one of them covered. And he's pretty young, not even forty, I think, but his hair his silver. Different, huh?"

Gaara didn't comment on the fact that pink locks were far more different that a premature gray mop.

"I love him very much too."

Sakura sighed, "I haven't talked to him in weeks." She laughed, a pitiful, broken thing, more like the sob of an animal wounded and infected, "I never return his calls. I don't know why.

"And then…then…" Sakura stumbled, "Then there's Sasuke—I haven't seen him in…years. Girls really like him. He was very popular in high school, even if he did act like a brat…

"He disappeared…

"At least, until tonight."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Gaara sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, lying on top of a made bed with slightly rumbled sheets.

Maybe he had misjudged Sakura. She had just left a little while ago, a small smile with a thank you to along with it. Her empty mug still sat on the table, untouched, ignored, and abandoned, yet still in his mind, just like her.

It seemed as though maybe the girl next door was not as innocent and naïve as he had first thought. Sakura was no bubble of joy and happiness; she struggled to live, just like many others. She had troubles, she had pain; she even had tears. Thinking back, he thought her every bit superficial, shower, a Barbie doll with a permanent grin and tears of sugar.

Gaara sighed as he put his hands behind his head, readying himself to meditate, and keep sleep at bay for as long as possible.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **I am so sorry about the wait. I really am. I've had to work and study and fill out college applications and I am every bit as overwhelmed as I sound. I will try to get the next one out as soon as possible, but I've got to work all weekend, etc…

Please review. I was so disappointed in the number of reviews I received last time. It kind of put me into a bit of a funk, accompanying my busy schedule. I know it's shallow, but please help me out here, with a critique of some sort. Anything, really.

On a better note. I just found out that I am the science student of the month at my school. Where the fuck that came from, I have no idea, but it's kind of cool. I guess…

Anyways, until next time…

emeraldoni


	5. Chapter 5

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By: emeraldoni

CHAPTER V

_Disclaimer: Of course not, you nitwits, who do you think I am? God?_

Gaara stared at the door in front of him, eyes flat, teeth grinding, the feeling of utmost frustration consuming him in every way. It felt as though his insides were going to squeeze and implode, leaving him just a hollow pile of goop that would bubble in resonant outrage every few moments. Of course, that was just nervous speculation, but just the same, emotions never made much sense. Not that Gaara had any emotions or anything, but still…

Running a clammy palm through his hair, he raised a hand to knock at the offending door. Really, was this so necessary? Couldn't he just leave and be on his merry way completely disregarding his emotionally unbalanced and obviously unstable neighbor?

Apparently not.

Banging against the entry with more force than he meant to give, Gaara restrained him from taking a step back when Sakura opened the door.

"Oh, Hey Gaara! What's up?"

Gaara blinked once, struggling to keep his face impassive at the girl's outfit in front of him. He had thought her to be a completely ridiculous character already, but this… this was just too much. He blinked once more, hoping that maybe the image would fade, but to no avail. Sakura really was wearing that disgustingly bright apron, with small frills and logo to make him sick, which made it all the worse.

"Sakura." Gaara said, finally regaining his composure, "What is that smell?"

Eyes widening, Sakura whipped around to run back into her apartment, an echo of "Shit!" left behind.

Gaara tracked her course, small as it was, into the living room with the small kitchenette, which was currently belching out and acrid black smoke that stung his eyes. With a small shriek, Sakura lifted something up and dumped it into the sink, turning on the water, then opening the one window in the small space.

Gaara leaned against the wall, Sakura doing the same, though it was more of a slump.

"Damn." She whispered, wiping loose hair out of her face and behind her ears. Green eyes glanced up at him, face flushed with exertion as she offered a weary grin, and strained laugh, "Oops." Straitening up, she walked over to the sink, grimacing at the whatever-it-was now splattered on the off-white porcelain. Gaara followed suit, standing next to her as they both stared silently at the black on white mess that still smoked and steamed silently to itself with the occasional hiss and pop. Briefly, Gaara wondered if his earlier thoughts about goop had anything to do this, but pushed that away, being the down-to-earth person he was.

Yet though Gaara was down-to-earth and fairly silent and reclusive he couldn't help but ask, "What _is that?"_

"That?" Sakura replied, turning her back on the thing in the sink as she tried to ignore the pain in her hand, hoping it wasn't what she thought it was, "That was supposed to be dinner."

Gaara was silent, before turning to face her as well, his face empty, but his eyes holding something akin to amusement.

"Shut up!" She said, softly hitting his shoulder with a laugh, but grimacing once again as she grabbed her hand, "Dammit!"

Gaara, being the observant person he was, immediately froze and, though he wouldn't admit it, grabbed her palm in concern. It wasn't that bad, but burns were painful all the same, and the bright blisters on her fingers were no cake walk.

Sakura laughed, though it was a bit high and even further strained, "Oh, that? That's nothing. I think I have some band-aids in the cabinet."

Gaara resisted the extremely strong to roll his eyes, instead grabbing a cloth and getting it wet with cool water, "Come with me."

Holding the cloth against the tear-rendering pain—which she did everything in her might to ignore, but couldn't help but let a few of the miserable drops slip past—Sakura followed Gaara out of the room as he grabbed a random jacket hanging from the back of a chair and pulling her into the hallway. He was about to shut and lock the door when he took another glance at her.

"The apron. Take it off."

"What?" Sakura was more than a bit confused, "Why? Where are we going? Gaara?"

Sighing, which was the loudest emotion—not including anger—she had heard him express, Gaara slipped behind her, untying the loops messily knotted at her neck and waist. The 'Shut up and kiss me' apron disappeared from her view as it was chucked into her apartment, followed by the slamming and locking of the door.

"Uhm, Gaara? I don't have my key."

"Don't worry about it."

"So, uh, where are we going?"

"The hospital."

Sakura stopped, backing down the hall a bit, "What? No! I don't want to go to the hospital! It's not that bad!"

Gaara turned around, "Sakura, the skin is peeling and there are blisters. You need to go to the hospital."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

Sakura turned to make a run for it, but was halted in her tracks as an arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her up and throwing her over an unyielding shoulder.

"What the hell? Gaara!"

Sakura struggled a bit but found her self to be completely entrapped, unmarked hand twisting into the back of his black T-shirt. Sakura growled as he stepped into the elevator, the little ding signaling her of their decent.

"You know," Sakura said conversationally, "I can walk perfectly fine by myself. It wasn't my legs that were hurt."

"Yes, you can."

"So, why don't you put me down?"

"Because you'll run."

Sakura pouted slightly, not that he could see, as it was his rear she was facing—which was quite nice, if she could say so her self—then said, "I won't run."

"Maybe."

"Well, then, let me down?" Sakura tacked on her last attack, "Please?"

"No, that's okay."

Sakura just scowled, at least until a pained wince interrupted it.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Naruto grinned over at the man next to him, lacing his fingers behind his head, "Sakura will be so glad to see you!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah! She's been so busy lately that she hasn't been able to hang out, but she's on vacation now!"

"Hm. That's good."

"Yeah, I know, isn't it? I hope she's awake. She'd kill me if we woke her up."

"Naruto, it's past four. I'm sure Sakura isn't asleep."

Naruto just looked suspicious, "You never know with her. What if she's napping? It's right around napping time."

"Really."

"Yeah! And—Hey, Kakashi, is that Sakura over there?"

Kakashi shielded his eyes, seeing a very masculine figure carrying a smaller petite one down the street, "Yes, I believe so."

"Why is that guy carrying her?"

Kakashi shrugged, "Dunno. Maybe he's kidnapping her."

Naruto gasped, yelling with outrage, "What the fuck? We have to go save her! C'mon let's go!"

Kakashi followed the young man at his own leisurely pace.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Gaara's first instinct was to gut the man where he stood, taking him out of this world as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, the girl hanging over his shoulder excluded this plan, so he came up with another.

"Move."

"…'the fuck? No! You fucking move! And put Sakura-chan down you pervert! Nobody molests Sakura-chan!"

Gaara glared at the annoying guy with his blond hair and bright teeth. What right had he to get in his way when Sakura was hurt? Even if the girl wasn't his favorite person in the world—not that he had a favorite or anything, but still—it was still his duty to get her medical attention, and this fool was getting in the way.

"Move."

"Naruto?"

Gaara glanced in annoyance at the girl in his arms, or as much as he could look at her, considering it was her rear that was right next to his face. Somehow, even in the odd position, she managed to twist her way around Gaara's waist to catch a glimpse of Naruto.

"Naruto, what the hell are you doing?"

Naruto blinked, "What do you mean, Sakura? I'm saving you."

"From what—pray tell—Naruto? The boogey man?"

"Well…uh…well, you know. This bastard here."

Sakura rolled her eyes, "He's not doing anything bad, Naruto."

"Ah. Then I guess we must have misinterpreted?"

Sakura was stunned silent for a moment, "Eh, Kakashi? What are you doing here?"

Kakashi smiled, turtle-neck shirt covering the lower half of his face as his hair covered another vertical half, leaving only a fourth to show one eye. It was rare to see Kakashi without his form-covering outfit and floppy silver hair.

"We might ask the same, Sakura. I never expected this kind of thing from you."

Sakura blushed as much as she could, considering her face was already quite red from hanging upside down for such a length of time, "Shut up, it's nothing like that. Gaara was just being a gentleman and escorting me somewhere."

Kakashi finally turned his attention to the stony young man, "Gaara, eh? Have I met you somewhere before?"

As luck turned out—oh, and Gaara had luck, even if it wasn't necessarily the good kind—Kakashi was an officer. He was a notorious undercover cop, though not recently because of his notoriety (and white hair), and though Gaara was (kind of) reformed now, he had done his fair share of bad things in the past. He was, in fact, shocked that he has gotten off on such a light sentence. It might have been the insanity defense. Just maybe.

Gaara shook his head in answer, not speaking to such people who had interrupted him and his task.

"Hm, really. May I ask why you are carrying Sakura over your shoulder like a bag of dung?"

Sakura looked extremely offended, "What did you just say?" What furthered her irritation was Naruto's response.

"Yeah! What gives?"

"Fuck you all." She muttered, only to be ignored. The tense nature of the air was getting to her.

Gaara glared, wishing harsh and horrible deaths on the two men in front of him, "I was taking her to the hospital."

"What?" Naruto looked slightly worried but still not content, "Are you saying Sakura's hurt?"

"Yes."

It was a silent second, one that Sakura felt was all too short. The peace and broken, looming aura dissolving at the realization of an injured sister who wasn't really injured, at least in her opinion.

"What? Sakura!"

Naruto rushed over to her, hovering down by her face (which, Sakura thought, must have been extremely uncomfortable for Gaara, considering that was right next to his butt. Probably the reason why he growled and turned her away from Naruto) as she sighed then glared at him.

"Naruto. Naruto. Naruto! Fuck! It's just a small burn!"

Naruto had been following her around as Gaara twisted in a circle trying to lose the leech in an attempt that made her slightly dizzy.

"Fucking A, Gaara, stop spinning!"

Gaara stopped, but not before shifting her so that she was bridal style in his arms and he was backed against a good, solid wall. Cradling her hand, Sakura glared at the three concerned men around her, tears filling her eyes at the stress and pain and how life was a complete bitch and why couldn't she just be left alone?

"God, can't you just take me back to my apartment? I want to go home! Now!"

Tensing slightly, Gaara started walking, one Kakashi and Naruto trailing behind (Kakashi looking more than a tad amused).

"Hey! Where are you going? This isn't the way to my house!"

"No, it's the way to the hospital."

Sakura did cry this time, "Why are you all so stupid? It's just a stupid burn! Nothing to be worried about!"

In a weak attempt to show she was in perfect health, she hit Gaara on the shoulder, with her injured hand. One nearly dropped girl, a scream and Gaara cursing they were back on their path. Sakura sobbed, looking at her hand spitefully as it now oozed from the broken blister she had hit Gaara with.

"Fuck, Sakura." Muttered Gaara, noticing slightly that the two idiots with relations to Sakura (whatever they be) had dropped back a few more feet. Tightening his grip on her, Gaara sped up, knowing that the hospital was only a block or so away. It felt as though a vein would pop when Naruto's voice piped up.

"Hey, dude, why the hell are you walking to the hospital?"

"I don't have a car."

"It's called public transportation."

"-or money, and it's too crowded."

The fact it would be near impossible to get Sakura to the hospital with her behavior in a subway or some such transport was first and foremost in his mind. What her aversion to the hospital was he didn't understand, but it didn't really matter considering she needed to go there. And she was hurt, there was no denying that. It was much worse than just a sunburn. Really, her hand at the moment was oozing slightly, catching the dim, cloudy light in a morbid display of attention-catching awfulness.

Quickly Gaara walked through the sliding glass doors, eyes hard as he searched for the front desk or the closest nurse.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

"Really, Sakura, I can't believe you would be so careless. This is your job—and your vacation—you're not supposed to be here."

Sakura glared at the tiled floor, feeling as petulant as a child and trying not to wince as the nurse scolded her, all the while dabbing some icky substance on her hand. Her glare was nothing compared to Gaara's though, for he certainly had a gripe to complain about. The moment he learned she worked here his body had stiffened and froze, his voice low as he spoke.

"That's why you didn't want to come here?" It was closer to a statement than a question, and dangerously said at that. Not that Sakura would notice, of course, instead crossing her arms—as much as her hand would allow—and pouting.

"So what?"

Sakura's eyes shifted slightly, avoiding him as he let loose a low growl. Naruto and Kakashi had been at the desk, explaining the problem and trying to get her a doctor. Gaara had been in an even worse mood for the rest of their time there. Sakura sighed as she slid here eyes up to where he was sitting, the bright, sterile lights making his face seem ashen and pallid, eyes shadowed even more than usual. Trying to get more comfortable, Sakura cringed as the paper crinkled loudly under her (she always hated the paper, couldn't they get something more comfortable?) trying to avoid his eyes as they shifted her way.

With another pronounced sigh, Sakura spoke, "Okay, fine. I'm sorry." Glancing under her veil of hair caught sight of a raised brow. She resisted the urge to role her eyes. Of course he would make this painful for her. She was bad enough at apologizing in the first place, and here he was making her explain. Great.

"You know, for you being all nice and taking me to the hospital and me being rude. I'm sorry."

Gaara sniffed and for a moment there was silence, interrupted by his voice, "Apology accepted." Relieved, Sakura let loose a soft breath, though still a tad annoyed at the haughtiness of Gaara's voice, she could deal with it as long as he didn't hold it above her head.

The door opened, revealing another co-worker with a slightly amused face. Sakura glared at him before offering her hand, if a little hesitant. She knew what was to come next and she didn't like it.

"So, Sakura, trying to cook were we?" Said the doctor, voice light and teasing.

"I guess." Sakura's voice was the complete opposite.

"Bet that tasted great."

"Yeah, bet so."

"You'll have to bring some in to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, too bad it's all gone."

"Oh? Ate it already? That's too bad. You must have been hungry."

Sakura knew he wasn't teasing her anymore. He was distracting her, from the delicate tweezers hovering over her crisped hand.

Sakura replied, only pausing a little, "Yeah, me and Gaara were pretty hungry."

She prayed he wouldn't out her. There was no reason for her lie; she just didn't want to be mocked at work for eternity because of her less than respectable cooking skills. She liked to be more of a backdrop that the center of attention. She wasn't anti-social or anything, but she liked her privacy from time to time, and sometimes just needed to be left alone. An incident like this no one would forget and every time she passed someone in the hallway a comment like, "You're not going to the break room are you? I better warn the others first!"

Or something like, "Oh, so you have the weekend off, Sakura? Make sure to stay away from the stove, okay? I don't want to see you here before Monday."

That would just annoy the hell out of her, and she didn't want to be fired for strangling a co-worker. She might get into a bit of trouble for that.

Sakura was suddenly pulled out oh her reverie by a sharp pain on her hand. With a small, strangled shriek Sakura whipped her limb away, "Fuck!"

"Sakura," The doctor said, exasperation tainting his voice, "You know I have to do this and you know it will hurt. You'll have to deal with it for the moment. Now, give me your hand."

With a fist clenched, wrapped into her pants leg, Sakura reluctantly gave her hand back, once again trying to blink back tears. The severity of the burn had left behind dead skin and such—even some unknown particles of melted plastic, though where that came from she had no idea—so they were going to have to clean it out. This was one of the reasons she hated the burn ward as a nurse. Burns were of the most painful to get and the most painful to treat. Being in the wing with all the burn victims left ones stomach churning. Even the strongest of men screamed under that kind of pain. There was always a shortage of nurses and that section because of the short work span and the many requests to be moved else where. Sakura had been one of those requests, and a lucky one at that, for actually getting moved to a general aid section.

The searing pain flashed through her once again, sharp jabs spreading up to her head and making her thoroughly miserable. Once again, Sakura jerked her hand away.

"Sakura…" The doctor said, frustration a close hint in the impatient tone of his voice. For a moment he closed his eyes, rubbing a temple, until he turned to Gaara.

"Could you hold her for me, please? This will make things a little less painful and much quicker."

Nodding silently, Gaara stood up languidly, strolling over to out position, face impassive as he gripped Sakura's brachial and forearm, "Hold still." He ordered, and Sakura attempted to listen.

Slowly the doctor started once again, working around her twitching digits as he expertly peeled off the dead skin and small particles. Sakura began to sob. Gaara, assured that she wouldn't try to pull away again, patted her back soothingly, if awkwardly, as he kept a tight hold on her forearm. Apparently he didn't trust her completely.

It wasn't until a particularly large swath of skin peeled away that Sakura felt the dizziness. She blinked, trying to clear her eyes of the swirling shadows, but to no avail. With grasping fingers, Sakura grabbed Gaara's shirt in an attempt to keep her balance. Briefly a thought flitted through her head, through what it was she couldn't say, and she fell into a faint.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Forgive me! I know it's been forever since I last update, but I've been so busy, so, I'm sorry. I hope this chapter made up for it though, since it's about ten pages long on Word. Please review, it would be nice. I don't know, I think my inspiration for this story just dried up. I'm hoping with this chapter it will come back, but who knows?

Oh yeah, another excuse, I lost my second USB, the first one conveniently dying on me, so I'm not completely at fault. Oh shut up.

Until next time,

emeraldoni

PS: The Starman: … I'm not sure how to reply, really. Can't a girl vent without being on the rag?...Thanks for the review… I guess…


	6. Chapter 6

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood.**

By: emeraldoni

PART VI

_Disclaimer: I really have no idea why we have to write these. Isn't it a given? Fan-fiction. Duh. Jeesh…_

"So, your excuse is that you're late because you had to bring some girl to the hospital?"

He nodded, eyes narrowed at the woman he hated more than his probation officer.

"Do you know how often I've heard that excuse?" She said, voice mocking, "Do you truly think I would buy that? What do you take me for?"

Gaara suppressed a growl, knowing that this woman had more control over his life than he had ever allowed anyone before. Not that he had allowed her, but still, it didn't change the fact that she had a strong fist in how his future might turn out. It chafed against him, certainly, and every time she spoke to him in her ridiculously condescending tone it made the small hairs on the back of his neck stand up and his chest to clench in anger as his teeth ground. God, he hated her, the bitch that made his life a living hell. The other little irritations, his siblings, neighbors, everybody in general, they paled in comparison to this living, breathing, demon of a woman.

Wasn't a therapist supposed to make a person happy and normal and all the 'good' things positive, average people were supposed to be?

If anything, the rage to crack a skull open just multiplied—like looking through a magnifying glass—when he was with her. Gaara tried not to jump through a window as her stern voice spoke once again.

"You can't answer, eh? Was this girl just a figment of you imagination?"

Gaara barely suppressed a growl, "Burns. She was burnt. On her hand."

"Ah."

Gaara waited silently for her to respond more eloquently, balling is fists in a hopeful form of tension relief.

"Well." She said, after a few minutes of seemingly endless torture, "Why don't you bring this girl in? I would desperately love to meet her. Maybe she can help you be a bit more stable."

"No."

"Hm? What was that? I thought I just heard the little mental papers in my desk whispering to me about a special home…"

"Fine."

"Ah! Great! So when do I get to meet the lucky little lady? Is she here now?"

"Third floor."

"Good. Tell whoever the nurse residing there to let her go, if she's feeling well enough, or if she even exists."

"Hn."

"Okay, go, go-" She made shooing gestures as her gaze fell to pitcher on her desk that he knew certainly didn't contain water, "Go get the stupid girl."

Gaara turned to walk out of the furnished office, freezing at the doorway as the witch's voice rang out once more.

"Gaara, we talked about this…"

Gaara vaguely wondered how far he could get away before they found the body, but thought better of it. The woman's strength was inhuman.

"Gaara."

"Bye."

"And—?"

"Tsunade-san."

"Good boy. Now go get your girl."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Oh, man, she felt absolutely horrid. It was like a heavy, woolen fog had drifted over her brain and into her mouth, which was sticky and, well, to say the least, gross.

And it felt as though she were drifting in some kind of strange dream where she was in a haze of numbness and sharp jolts shooting up a pressurized limb, her arm, to be exact. Prying her eyes open, Sakura flinched as the blinding white lights shone mercilessly into her unadjusted retina.

"Mnnnmmmm." She said, or something like it, which sounded much more like a squeaky whine that anything else.

"Kakashi! Kakashi! She's awake! Look!"

Oh God, that really hurt her ears, like sand against the delicate, waxy skin. She let out another pitiful whimper as someone jostled her body on the bed which resulted in a loud, abrupt noise of cackling paper.

"Oh, God." Sakura voiced her thoughts in a moan.

"You feeling all right?"

Sakura peeked up through her squinted lids to find Kakashi lounging above her, dirty magazine in hand as he offered a reassuring smile. Sort of reassuring. Kind of.

Glaring at the two men in the room, she rubbed her forehead with the undamaged hand, trying to ignore the pain that was blossoming behind her eyes and steadily thrumming throughout her arm. This was just not her day; or week; or year, really. Sakura squeezed her eyes shut to avoid the tears lurking just underneath. She didn't need to rocket off in a fit of sobs again, especially with Naruto and Kakashi around. It would just make them uncomfortable. Neither of them could console a girl if their lives depended on it. In the end, she would just feel bad for burdening them over nothing. Both of them had suffered wounds worse than a simple burn on the hand. Ridiculous, really. It was probably the pain-killers that were doing this to her. She had never received drugs very well. Her body just didn't deal well with foreign substances.

In all actuality, when she was younger, she had tried to build up her immune system to certain poisons. She had been fanciful then, reading historical fictions and action novels, giving her a warped sense of heroism. It didn't help that at the time she had felt low, weak compared to her family. Kakashi as strong as he was, his life in law enforcement, well known for what he did, and never failing a job…

And then Sasuke and Naruto, so determined, so stable, both of them never losing in anything they did. Their bond brotherly, unbreakable; fighting, but in a way that caused no pain, only joy (in a loud, argumentative kind of way)…

There had been no place for Sakura, being the only girl in an apartment full of males. She wanted to bring herself up to par with them, and she had been stupid in the way she chose to go about doing it.

The hospital visit had been brief. The tongue-lashing she got wasn't.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, it was. To this day she regretted it, especially now that she was a nurse, a person in the health field, who, if she saw such an incident, would be nervous about the teen's mental stability, and would probably recommend a psychologist.

Sakura sighed as she finally turned to face Naruto and Kakashi again.

"I feel like shit."

Kakashi lowered the dirty magazine just a bit more, smiling beneath his veil, "Good, good. Hungry?"

She smiled slightly, thinking again about the mess that crusted in her sink from her cooking mishap.

"Just a bit."

She wasn't really, but she needed some time of silence, revving her energy up for the fatigue-bringing cloud that was Naruto and Kakashi. Both of them could be so, so—irritating sometimes. Sometimes she had to physically restrain herself from going farther than just a slap against the back of the head.

"Okay!" Shouted Naruto, pumping the air with his fist, "Let's go, Kakashi, and get Sakura some ramen."

Sakura groaned, but just nodded her head.

"'Kay, 'kay, whatever. Just go." She waved one hand, rolling her eyes as they kissed her cheek and left the room in a rambunctious shuffle (or a lackadaisical one, in Kakashi's case).

Letting loose a loud, tense breath, Sakura melted back into the uncomfortable bed, holding her bandaged hand up to inspect the surly white.

"Kami…" She said, "How idiotic."

Meanwhile, just a few meters away an even surlier red-head stalked down the pale, fluorescent hallway, shooting harsh glares at every personnel—or patient—who dared to get within a three foot radius of him.

Gaara felt absolute anger, irritation, and something else he'd rather not admit to—embarrassment. Really, Sakura, who seemed (outwardly, to strangers) sane, would probably think having a shrink is ridiculous. Not that he cared, but he didn't particularly like having that information spread out to the public. It made him seem weak.

And he didn't really want Sakura to meet Tsunade. He was a tad afraid of what they could plot against him. Tsunade would do something that would aggravate him to the grave, and Sakura would do something completely unpredictable, and most likely uncomfortable…for him. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

Gaara hesitated at her door, the doorknob somehow jarring to his sense. _(Stupid.) _Ignoring the overwhelming sense of dread, Gaara quickly walked into the room, turning to face a lounging Sakura.

"Ah!" She exclaimed, sitting up with a drowsy smile upon her pale lips, "Gaara, you're still here?"

Gaara nodded, trying to ignore the probing feeling of upset at her not-so-great looking appearance. Kind of sickly, really…

But he didn't care, because she certainly wasn't his friend, just some girl who happened to live right next to him (and somehow managed, within a week, to invoke more conversations with him that anybody else) and he _did not care _at all.

"Oh," Said Sakura, sliding her legs off the slide of the bed while cradling her hand, "You don't have to stay, you know, you've done so much already."

She really was shocked he was still there. Sakura didn't see Gaara as the type to stick around, especially after the displeasure he expressed at being there in the first place. And the way he had had to hold her down for the stupid doctor…

She shook herself out of the (recent) memories best left forgotten, turning her attention back to Gaara, who stared at her impassively.

Slowly she watched as he walked towards her, and though it was hard to tell, she swore she could see a bit of hesitancy in his glance.

"Sakura, I have to take you somewhere."

Sakura blinked, "Uhm. What?"

"Someone wants to meet you."

"Uh, okay. Gaara, are you okay?"

"I am fine, but she wishes to meet you now."

Sakura was silent for the moment, staring at Gaara as though trying to figure out some dazzling puzzle. Was he messing with her? It felt as though he was going to take her to the guillotine or something—something bad. And, really, wasn't she in her hospital bed? People didn't just take patients to other parts of the hospital randomly. It just wasn't done.

"Yeah…"

Taking that for affirmation, Gaara, in a swift motion, looped is arms around her and picked her up—hanging over his shoulder. Again.

Sakura growled.

"Gaara." She said (growled) voice muted, "I _know_ you know how I feel about this position."

Without a word, he slipped her around his body, cradling her bridle style.

"That wasn't what I meant." She muttered, but he didn't listen as they were already pacing down the tiled hallway and into an elevator. The nurse looked at them oddly (though a tad longer at Gaara than Sakura liked) but left them on the fourth floor without a word as she shuffled through some papers on an old clipboard.

Sakura sighed as they were left alone on the elevator.

"So. Who am I meeting?"

Gaara was silent, trying to think up and answer and in the process not answering at all.

Sakura humphed and crossed arms as well as she could, which wasn't crossing them at all.

The quiet was a bit awkward, and Sakura was relieved when the elevator dinged to a stop, tensing again when she saw what sector they were in.

"Hey, Gaara, you aren't taking me to see a therapist are you?"

In a manner of speaking, he thought, but said nothing for fear of her misconstruing his words. He would just let Tsunade put things to rights. Though maybe that was such a great idea. She would probably mess everything up.

Stopping in front of an off-white door, Gaara set her down, keeping an arm around her waist to ensure her balance.

"I'm sorry if I've been bugging you, but really, I don't think it's that bad, is it? I mean, I know I can get a little annoying sometimes, but I don't try to be, and I am certainly not crazy, so I think we should go right back to my apartment. Now."

"Shut up."

Sakura's mouth shut with irritation, "Excuse me—?"

"It is my shrink we are seeing."

Sakura immediately calmed, face twisted in something akin to confusion, yet a smidge off…

"Oh." She said.

"She did not believe my reason for being late, and she wanted to have proof." Gaara looked away, "You are the proof."

Sakura was silent, "Oh. Well, okay then. I guess I can vouch for you."

"Hm."

Gaara opened the door, leading Sakura in front of him and shutting the door behind them.

Tsunade, who had been writing something at her desk, looked up, surprise in her hazel eyes.

"Eh? Sakura? What are you doing here?"

Sakura took a step forward, Gaara keeping close behind as to make sure she didn't stumble (all the while regretting bringing Sakura up. She _knew _the bitch? Heaven help him…) "I should be asking you the same, Tsunade-san. I thought your office was on the second floor. Did you just move?"

Tsunade smiled, waving at a plush chair for Sakura to sit in, "Yeah, just a few days ago, actually. But enough about that, what are you doing here? It's your vacation, and with Gaara of all people!" Tsunade snuck a sly glance at him, but he didn't say anything, just tensing his hand on the chair he stood behind—the one Sakura was sitting in.

"Well," Sakura felt slightly sheepish as she held up her burnt hand, "I had a little accident."

"Oh! That's horrible! What happened?"

"Uhm. It's just a little burnt. I was cooking and some stuff happened, and well… I ended up with a bit of an owie."

Gaara mentally rolled his eyes at Sakura's reference to an 'owie' as Sakura resisted the urge to wince at the throb that reminded her all too much of the stupidity that was her cooking skills. Shooting a hard glance at Gaara, Sakura continued, "I didn't actually have to come to the hospital, but _someone _forced me to come."

Gaara scowled, and dared Tsunade to contradict his actions. He _knew _he was in the right and Sakura was just being stubborn. Aggravating girl. He didn't know why he even bothered. There wasn't any gratification in her soul at all. Teach him to help people in trouble…

"Gaara." His eyes snapped back to Tsunade, "Go sit out in the hallway." For a moment he froze, not actually believing she was telling him to sit in the hall like a troublesome schoolboy. Searching her face, though, revealed that she was not joking at all. With a silent, warning snarl, Gaara stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"What was that?" Asked Sakura, frustrated at Gaara's offensive behavior to Tsunade.

Tsunade just waved it away, leaning back in her chair with a lazy hand shake, "Oh, nothing, he's always like that. It also seems he didn't like having to leave you here alone with big, bad old me." With a wry grin upon her lips, she continued, "I don't think he likes me very much."

"Really? No." Sakura said, sarcasm oozing from her voice like a saturated sponge, "I wouldn't have guessed."

"I know, but enough about that. May I ask about your relationship to Gaara?"

Sakura stilled, stunned by the sudden change in conversation, cheeks flushing slightly, "What? Why?"

"Well, I'm just a bit curious."

"There's really nothing to be curious about. He's my neighbor. End of story."

"Hmmm." Tsunade said, but her eyes were riveted upon the door that Gaara had just exited.

"And you've never entertained any…_ideas?_"

"Uh. What?" Sakura wondered what time it was and whether she could leave yet. Didn't Tsunade have any other patients?

As if reading her mind Tsunade laughed, "No, I don't have any other patients, so forget about running away. I need to know this. This isn't just haphazard curiosity, you know."

Running her good hand through her (very tangled) hair, Sakura furrowed her brows, staring avidly at a desk leg.

"Come on, Sakura, I need to know this. You may not have realized it, but Gaara is dangerous. He has a quick temper and not much empathy. He's gotten in a lot of trouble and I don't think he grew up in a very conducive environment. He could hurt you. Easily."

Sakura felt her throat tighten, her voice low and cracked when it came out, "I know he can be dangerous. But he hasn't been to me. At all." Sakura held up her hand when she noticed Tsunade opening her mouth to jump in, "I _have _entertained some thoughts, I admit. But it won't happen, I know that. First of, Gaara isn't interested. He's made that clear to me. I'm just an annoyance. Second off, well…"

Sakura trailed off, eyes reminiscent as she offered Tsunade a sad smile, "I don't think I could ever do that to him. You know it wouldn't end—yeah, well, you know…"

Tsunade smiled in return, eyes solemn, stern, but comforting, "You're going to have to get over that sometime, Sakura. It has been years. Time passes, as well as life. It was over and done with a long time ago."

"I know…"

The silence didn't last long until, with a sudden burst of energy, Tsunade stood up with a piercing clap of her hands, "Well, I think this session is over and Gaara has been waiting long enough. Go collect your man and have him bring you home. I'll call the desk and check out for you. That young Hinata is so useful to have down there. She does everything I tell to her to do."

"That's mean, Tsunade-san," Sakura chastised, "And weren't you just telling me to be careful of Gaara?"

"Well, yes, but I've changed my mind. Maybe—just maybe, mind you—he might be good for you—Ah, ah, ah. Don't interrupt. I am not saying for you to pursue the boy, just don't completely close off the option. If you look past the sulk, it's really not that bad. I might be tempted myself if I weren't his therapist."

"That's' gross, Tsunade-san." Sakura muttered as she shuffled towards the door.

"Hm hm." Said Tsunade.

With a wave, Sakura exited the room, only to come face to face with a pair of furious green eyes.

Behind her, as she shut the door, Sakura did not hear the muttered words.

"Sakura, Sakura, Sakura…how can you be so naïve after all these years?"

Rustling though her pockets, Tsunade pulled out a little flask, bringing it to her mouth, "First off: He _is_ interested in you, my dear. And second… I really don't think he'd mind all that much."

She smiled as the warm feeling of sake filled her chest.

"I'm sure he's not so innocent either."

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Sakura sighed as she mulled over her thoughts, ever aware of the warm body right beside her. Her hand had finally stopped throbbing—probably because of the Vicodin they had given her, along with the instruction to come back in a week—and if it weren't for the cold nipping against her bare arms, she might have even allowed herself to say she was content. Unfortunately, aside from the cold air, she was in too much of a mental—emotional—turmoil to call herself content.

With another sigh, she paused in her stride. Gaara stopped with her, hand reaching out slightly in case she decided to swoon.

"Gaara," She said, voice soft, "Thank you."

Gaara was silent, processing her words as the anger that had cloaked him after sitting in the hallway melted off and drained into a sewer grate just a few feet away.

"I know I haven't been acting exactly thankful, maybe even a bit rude, but I just wanted you to know I'm really grateful for what you've done for me."

"Hm."

Sakura stilled, body set in anticipation as she tried to gauge his tone and expression.

"It didn't bother me much, anyway."

Sakura laughed. Though the words were harsh, his expression was soft, and this time she was sure she saw a slight blush on his pale cheeks as his eyes avoided hers.

"Good." She said, "Because, as you neighbor, I can't be spurned for just a stupid little incident. I have a duty to keep up with, you know. I am here to annoy you, and there's nothin' you can do about it." With a final gesture of mocking defiance, Sakura poked him in the center of his _(toned!) _chest and added, "Little man."

Gaara's jaw dropped, just slightly, "What?"

Sakura laughed, patting him on the shoulder (she wasn't being too touchy, was she?).

"Great! That's wonderful. You finally stopped looking all mad and stuff. Weren't you ever told that your face could get stuck like that?"

Gaara scowled, ignoring the question, "Let's go." He began to walk away, though not fast so she was able to catch up.

"You know," she said, "You're really not so bad."

Glancing at her, Gaara replied, "Have you told me that before?"

Putting a finger to her chin, Sakura lifted her face up to the inky sky, "I'm not sure…have I?"

Gaara shrugged, before glancing at Sakura's bare, goose-pimpled arms.

"You're cold."

Following his gaze, Sakura shrugged, "It's not that bad. Besides, we're almost to home."

"Hm."

In a very daring, and quite shocking move, Gaara wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her to his side, "I do not wish to take you to the hospital again."

Sakura rolled her eyes, but just snuggled into his side, forgetting the thoughts that had plagued her just minutes ago.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

**A/N: **Finally! Woosh! That took forever! Sorry about that, everyone. I've just been really busy and I had absolutely no time to write. I shouldn't even be writing this now, since I've got some speeches to write, but I just couldn't put it off any longer.

Thank you for the people who reviewed last time (the very few who did). You guys make me feel so much better about myself and much more motivated. I hope this chapter is long enough for you guys. I was considering making it longer, but I figured you'd want this out quicker instead.

Please review.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


	7. Chapter 7

**A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood**

By emeraldoni

_Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, not me. _

"Sakura! Are you listening?"

Sakura sighed, rubbing her forehead as she leaned back in her chair, balancing precariously on only two of the rickety chair's legs.

"Yes, Naruto, I'm listening. Repeat that last part."

His hazy voice came through the receiver with avid exuberance, despite the phone's static, her lack of listening already forgotten as he grilled her some more.

"Why weren't you there when we got back? We were worried you know! And we had ramen for you!"

"Naruto…" She said patiently, for what felt like the thousandth time (which it probably was), "I already told you. I had to go talk to Tsunade, who got me released without any of the hassle. Effortless, right? Anyway, I wasn't in the mood for anything else."

"Well, okay Sakura…. But we would have taken real good care of you! I even got your favorite type of ramen!"

"Thanks, Naruto. We'll go out someplace—just us—later on. Maybe next weekend. I'll even pay for a bowl of ramen."

Sakura held the phone away from her ear as shouts of pure ecstasy rubbed abrasively against her cochlea.

"Uh huh, okay, Naruto. I gotta go. The kitchen is a bit of a mess."

"Want me to come help you clean up? You are injured, you know."

Sakura thought back to the last time Naruto had come over to help her clean up. It had been an absolute disaster. When Naruto left, the place had been twice as messy as before, some parts permanently so.

The contractor had scratched his head over the door frame thing. To this day, Sakura did not understand how Naruto had taken most of the doorframe out without touching the _door. _It was one of those mysteries of the world.

"Uh, no, that's okay, Naruto, thanks anyway.

"Okay, see ya, Sakura!"

Saying goodbye, Sakura hung up the phone with a relieved by the sudden silence. She loved Naruto with all her heart, but that did not mean she had to tolerate him, because most of the time she didn't. He could be awfully aggravating, insanely so. Sakura didn't know how she had survived living with him for years. Well, him, Kakashi _and _Sasuke. Though good-looking, they were the most irritating people she knew, and that was saying a lot. She must have grown accustomed, and when she moved out, that callus must have faded. Well, that, and things were different after Sasuke left, but…

She didn't want to think about that.

Mulling over recent events, she found that maybe the boys she had grown up with weren't all that annoying after all. Certainly there was someone who held the possibility of being even more aggravating that the three of them combined.

Of course, Gaara seemed to think the same of her, so maybe it was a mutual thing they had going—the annoyance of one another, an odd, but all too likely bond. Turning on some music, Sakura began picking up the trash-heap that had once been her kitchen—one handed. It was a pain in the ass, but pain-killers only went so far in staving off the pain. Sakura always knew that burns were of some of the most painful wounds—she could testify to that.

That's probably why she never worked in the burn ward, because that was one of the most disturbing experiences. It was like a horror movie, with the bandaged men and painful wounds, even the strongest of them screaming.

Shuddering slightly, Sakura shoved those thoughts away from her, focusing on scraping off the crustys in her sink that had once been dinner. She didn't even remember what it was. All she knew was that it was unrecognizable now. With a flourish, she single-handedly (literally) set onto the task of cleaning her kitchen up. Her mind wasn't in it all though. In fact, her mind was only a few feet away, across the living room and through the wall that separated her apartment from her neighbor.

It was actually kind of frustrating that he could be on her mind so—immersing him self into her thoughts and latching onto her brain—probably the medulla oblongata part, since for some reason when she thought of him now her breath hitched. Actually, now, Sakura thought, he had latched himself to the pons, since that controlled the breathing.

Sakura growled. It didn't matter either way. All she knew was that he would not leave her thoughts alone. He had just dropped her off a little over an hour ago, and already she wanted to go over and knock on his door to try and pry some words out of him. She restrained herself though, because she couldn't stand those types of girls that were whiney and clingy and were anything but independent. She had been one once, and those days were a shame that she wished she could erase.

No wonder Sas—_he _hadn't cared for her after….

Sakura chipped viciously against a particularly irritating hunk of muck as her face twisted in a grimace, scowling at her memories. Sometimes she really just hated musing over the past, especially when it concerned _him. _

Sakura groaned, collapsing back against another part of her counter. She would have to call the landlord. There was no way she would be able to get that out of the sink by herself. She could just say Naruto had done it without her knowledge. The guy would understand. Hopefully.

With a sigh, Sakura heaved herself to the phone, dialing with a trembling finger. She tried not to bang her head against the table, instead resting her temple against the cool surface as the phone rang.

"Hyuuga speaking."

Sakura rolled her eyes at the blunt and brief greeting. He had never been that friendly.

"Uh. Hey, Neji… This is Sakura."

There was a short silence, filled with foreboding as Sakura imagined him clenching his fists and narrowing his pale eyes.

"What happened this time?"

"Yeah… Sorry Neji. It was an accident really, but… I think I'm going to need a new sink."

"…"

"Please?"

"Was it Naruto again?"

Sakura bit her lip and hoped Neji wouldn't be talking to Naruto anytime soon. Usually the stoic Hyuuga would let things slide if Naruto had caused the mess, charging her not even half the damage cost.

"Yeah, kind of."

Inevitably, all messes led to being Naruto's fault, like her less than great cooking skills. Maybe if he hadn't always tampered with her meals, she might have been able to learn properly, instead of learning how to cook things really, really fast. So, if things were thought about in depth, she wasn't really lying, and—yes—it was Naruto's fault. Sakura felt justified.

"Fine Sakura. This is the last time though. My budget can't take anymore."

Sakura snorted, "Yeah, right, Neji, your budget could take a million more. This isn't even a pinprick, you rich bastard."

"A pinprick can do a lot of damage."

Sakura rolled her eyes, glad that he wasn't too upset about her accident. He would probably buy her the crappiest sink out there though, and then charge her extra. It would be his personal revenge, or something weird like that. Stupid Neji.

"Whatever, Neji. When do you think I can get that new sink?"

She could practically see him tapping his fingers in annoyance. She certainly had a way with irritating the quiet ones.

"When I get around to it, Sakura. You'll have to deal with whatever it is for now."

"Neji. Please don't take a long time. I don't think I can handle that…stuff being in my sink for long."

"I won't ask you what the 'stuff' is. I don't want to know. Maybe you should try getting it out before you ask for a new sink."

"I have been for about the past hour. It's stuck. Just please get the sink soon. I've got to go. Thanks Neji. Bye."

She cut him off before he could reply, setting the phone down as she searched for her phone book. She had had it just a few days ago. Where it could be now though was a mystery…

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Naruto sat staring at the grainy wood in front of him. It was oddly intriguing, moving about, like some odd tunnel. He slowly raised the cold bottle in his hand to take another sip of the alcohol he was so inebriated with. He should have been dancing with all the other people on the floor, but his balance was probably too off for that at the moment. Instead he just swirled his drink around a bit before taking another sip.

They wouldn't miss him. They had enough of a buzz to keep going without noticing that he wasn't out there. Instead he was lounging on a grungy bar stool. Emptying his beer, Naruto raised a hand to call for another, but was promptly stopped by a well-sized bust appearing in front of him.

"Huh?"

Looking up, he was met with dark, critical eyes. Naruto felt his mouth fall slack. When did such a babe begin working behind the bar? It was always that other weirdo…the one with makeup on. This one though, with her bright hair, and dark eyes (so dark you could barely tell they were actually kind of green…) and awesome, kick ass body…. Man, he felt like a dog in heat.

She obviously did not return the feelings though. "What?" she snapped, bracing her hands on her hips, "Do you want something or not?"

Naruto mentally shook his head and grinned, scratching the back of his head, "Well, you see," he paused, the want for alcohol completely forgotten, "can I get your number?"

"_Excuse me?"_

Naruto grinned hopefully up at her, leaning over the counter slightly as if that could sway her decision. The situation was a hopeless one though, as the woman's face filled with disgust.

"I think that is inappropriate, and if you want another beer, you better not bug me again."

"What? But…please? I really like you! Please? Pretty please? You've got really nice…hair things," Naruto trailed off, trying not to lower his eyes from her face.

The woman just walked away.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Sakura grinned as she stared down at the paper. The little newsprint boxes danced back stoically as they made there way into Sakura's heart. Really, this was a boon. She probably shouldn't be doing this, considering she had to work early the next day, but it was a desire she just couldn't resist. Grabbing the special page, Sakura got up and jogged out her door, pausing in front of Gaara's identical little apartment.

Maybe he wouldn't be very happy with the idea, but she had to pay him back somehow. The bandage on her hand constantly reminded her of that. She wasn't one of those people who could just take but never give. She would feel horrible. And, to tell the truth, she loved that feeling of satisfaction she got after helping a person, after giving them something. It was just…lovely.

With a determined bob of her head, Sakura knocked on the door.

Gaara groaned when he heard the banging interrupting his peace. He had been having a nice, relaxing time shining a few of his daggers. Lately they had fallen into disrepair. He had been too distracted with…other things.

With a muted clatter, Gaara set down his tools and loped lazily to the front door. A scowl formed across his face when the telltale pink hair came into view.

"Hey, Gaara," she said, voice enthusiastic as a wide grin spread across her face. Her hair was askew and clothes rumpled. Maybe she had just woken up as well.

Gaara nodded civilly in return. "Sakura."

Sakura's grin, if possible, widened even further at the use of her name and the greeting that wasn't completely rude. Improvement was being made. He would become her friend yet, if she had any say in it. (Which she did.)

Whipping out the news page, Sakura shoved it under his nose, fingers white with excitement. "Let's go to a movie."

Gaara blinked, taking a sliver of a step back so his eyes could focus on the page. What came into view was horrifying. He had yet to forget Sakura's ghastly taste in movies. That was the first night he had met her (a few weeks ago maybe?). Or maybe a little less—he wasn't keeping track—but that movie had nearly sent him into a coma.

"No, thank you." Maybe if he refused politely, then she would just back off…or not.

"Uhm, well, please, Gaara? I'll even let you pick out the movie and stuff. And I'll pay for everything!" She was grasping at straws. "And you can choose where we sit, and what we eat. If you want, we can eat dinner, and I'll pay for that too!"

Gaara, uncharacteristically, pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "_Fine. _When?"

Sakura pumped her fist in the air, "Yes! Okay, so, which movie?"

Gaara blindly pointed at one, not even reading the list of titles. He honestly didn't give a shit. Looking at where his fingers landed, Sakura's eyebrows rose a few inches.

"You want to see…_that one?_"

Gaara nodded, looking over her shoulder and down the hallway.

"Are you sure you want to see…_that one?_"

Gaara nodded a tad impatiently, "Yes, I want to see that one. When do we leave?"

"Well… the next showing is at six thirty—that gives us a little time to get ready and stuff." Folding up the paper, Sakura smiled up at him. "I'll come by at six and we can head out then. We'll eat afterwards, okay?"

Gaara nodded again, backing up slightly, thinking their conversation was over.

Before he knew it though, Sakura had reached up and pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks."

Then she disappeared into her room, faster than lightening, voice echoing, "see you at six!"

Gaara stared blankly at the wall across form him, hand absently coming to his cheek and rubbing it slightly. With a sudden shake of his head, he retreated back into his apartment.

He had to get ready.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

"Hinata! Open then doors, we have a gunshot victim, to the chest, heavy bleeding!"

Hinata rushed over, pressing the button to open the emergency room doors. She hated working in the emergency room for just this reason. People depended on her, and she didn't like that. One mistake, one mess-up, and a life could be lost. She wouldn't be able to live with herself after that. And victims like these just reaffirmed her insecurities.

Scrambling to get out of the way, the EMTs rushed past her. Hands bloody, five of them worked together to try to keep the man alive. Hinata flitted in front of the gurney, clearing the way in front of them so they could get into surgery as quick as possible. Glancing back, she saw the man was dripping blood like some kind of leaky facet. His dark eyes were glazed over and were staring blindly at the ceiling.

One the EMTs kept trying to keep the man's attention, snapping fingers and waving his hand so as to keep the victim awake. Briefly, she wondered how it happened, but swiftly brushed the thought away as they reached a surgery room, rushing into the doors and leaving Hinata out in the hallway.

She stared through the wavy windows for a few seconds, watching as they transferred him to a more stable bed and rushed about.

Slowly, she trudged away, shoulders slumping as she made her way back to her desk.

She really, really hated this place.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Sakura grinned, tapping her fingers against her thighs as she peeked up at Gaara. He stared ahead, avoiding her gaze completely with an impassive expression upon his face. He was hoping blankness might discourage her, but that thin line of hope was fairly small.

Sakura bobbed on her heels a few more times, standing on her tiptoes to see how much closer they were to the ticket booth. They were waiting in line at the theater, and somehow, even though it was a week night, the line was long. Really long.

Sakura sighed, rubbing her hands at the brisk air breathing against her, then peeked up at Gaara once more. He was still studiously avoiding her gaze. Sakura's eyes dropped down to his chest, where his arms crossed impatiently. The corded muscles rippled subtly, and Sakura swore she saw warmth just radiating off of him. They moved forward a bit more as the line shortened, and Sakura returned to staring at his arms.

It wouldn't hurt…

Shrugging, Sakura quickly slipped her arm into the crook of his elbow, effectively looping arms with him. Gaara froze, staring down at her with eyes that were wide, and a wrinkled brow. Sakura looked up at him with a tentative smile.

"Okay?" she said, quietly, yet clearly through the crowd.

Gaara was silent for a moment, eye studying her silently, before he gave a quick nod of his head, turning away as they stepped even closer to the ticket booth. Silently they got their tickets, a small dispute over who would pay—though Sakura had said it was her treat—that ended with Sakura shoving Gaara out of the way and throwing her money through the glass to the wide-eyed teen. Afterwards, Gaara kept shooting her offended looks.

It wasn't until they were settled down, popcorn and an overly large coke nestled between them—which Gaara completely ignored—that it really turned around. They made it all the way through the commercials before Gaara tried to leave.

"What the hell is this?" he whispered furiously, eye glued to the screen as his body tensed.

Sakura cocked an eyebrow, "but, Gaara, you're the one who chose this movie, remember?"

"I did not."

"Yeah, you did."

"Shhhh!" interrupted an older lady behind them. Sakura turned to glare at the shushing offender before twisting back to Gaara and giving him a hard look, speaking even quieter as Gaara tried not to look at the screen, "I double checked with you, because this didn't seem like your thing." Sakura shot a disgusted look at the screen, "but you confirmed this is what you wanted!"

Gaara curled a lip, and both turned back to the screen. Sakura peeked out of the corner of her eyes, gauging Gaara's reaction to the film. She had been a bit uneasy about the movie—one normally didn't go to a lusty romance on their first…date thing. At least, she thought this was a date. Other people would consider this a date.

Right?

Sakura twitched away at the thought, eyes landing back on the screen just in time to encounter a couple getting very…intimate. Sakura turned away again, a blush rising on her cheeks. She really didn't need to see this right now. Actually, she didn't need to see it all.

Leaning over to Gaara, she whispered, "I'm going to the restroom. Be right back."

With that, she fled, silently breezing down the shadowed steps, around the corner, and through the door with glowing EXIT sign above it.

It felt like heaven.

The long hallway she escaped to was clear and cool. Mellow light was cast about as benches were placed strategically against walls. Immediately Sakura went to go rest on one.

She probably should feel bad for leaving Gaara in there like that, but it was just too much of relief getting out in the first place. She had thought she would be able to deal with the genre of the movie, and that maybe it wouldn't be _that _bad, but…. She probably could have seen it with Ino or something, have some laughs over it, whatever…but with _Gaara _there…

It was just too awkward.

She would stay out in the hallway for a while. Hopefully Gaara wouldn't notice. She also decided that she would never allow him to pick another movie again. Lurid love scenes were certainly not her thing, at least not with him around. When she was younger, a teen, those things had fascinated her. The thought of sex was exciting and mysterious, as it is to any other young girl. As she grew older, took classes, experienced such things herself, the excitement was taken away and it was just a dull, lackluster activity that held no interest for her.

Well, that wasn't completely true. Maybe it was because she was afraid. Not that she would admit it, or anything, but… after that one time….

Sakura sighed, letting her head fall back and thump in the wall, painted warm with browns and deep reds—calming almost, lulling. Staring up at one of the lights, Sakura stretched her legs, rolling her neck, trying to get relaxed and prepared to reenter the theatre. She couldn't ditch Gaara for too long. This was for him, paying him back for what he had done for her and all that.

Letting loose a low groan, Sakura hefted herself up, turning to slip back silently in the theatre-

-only to run strait into a rock.

"Oh, excuse me—"

"Sakura."

Sakura looked up, meeting pale green eyes that gazed down at her impassively. She grinned, backing up a step to allow him some room. Silently, he paced a few steps into the hall before turning back to face her. She noticed that he carried all their belongings with him—even the food.

Sakura laughed, "you look like you're ready to leave."

Gaara nodded. "Yes."

Sakura couldn't be happier, "good. I don't think I could have handled anymore either." Sakura reached out to take some of the stuff from him—her jacket and purse. "Let's go find some place to eat."

Gaara nodded again, following her out of the theatre and outside after throwing the theatre food away. The wind nipped at Sakura, and she bundled up, tucking herself back into the crook of Gaara's arm. Maybe she was infringing upon his personal space, but somehow… it just felt…right.

Gaara retained his silent vigilance, content with their stroll down the darkened street. Every window they passed, their reflections appeared, and in every reflection they looked like a couple. It was odd.

Gaara had never been in a relationship like this. He wasn't even sure what kind of relationship this was. The encounters he had with women were brief, the coming together of two people who had no feelings for each other except the urge to satisfy their sexual desires. Sakura was definitely not like those women. She was…

Gaara resisted the urge to run a hand through his cropped hair, instead sweeping his eyes across the road as cars drove by once every few minutes. The last one's music had been extraordinarily loud and Sakura had stuck her tongue out at it. He hadn't been able to take his eyes away from her face, flushed with cold, eyes bright and shining in the lamp lights. His gaze trailed down her neck, to her jutting collarbones, and the thick lining of her jacket, hiding her feminine figure.

Gaara blinked, snapping his gaze to stare strait down the street. He attempted to organize his thoughts, putting them in the proper places, dismissing the unneeded ones, like the thoughts he had just had. That process was jumbled though, as Sakura tugged on his arm, beginning to lead him to a doorway tucked into a little niche on the side of the street.

"Hey, I've heard this place is good. Want to try it?"

Gaara just shrugged as Sakura grinned, allowing himself to be tugged into the restaurant. It was a…quaint place. The lighting was soft—similar to the movie theatre but with a bit more authenticity. Seeing the 'please seat yourself sign' they both went to go sit in a booth in the corner.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, or just the fact that they were in a food-place together, but Gaara couldn't help but be reminded of that night they went out to the café. The night he had lost control and stormed out after thoroughly chewing up the girl who walked before him. Guilt wasn't something Gaara had ever really felt, but when he thought of that incident, it was like some sort of string came up and wrapped itself around his throat. He just felt disgusted with himself.

Gaara's already chaotic thoughts swarmed as Sakura turned to smile at him while sliding into the booth seat. Gaara mimicked her action, grabbing one of the menus piled in the middle of the table to flip through in order to avoid looking at the female across from him. Oddly, he was hyperaware of her knees which kept brushing haphazardly against his. It made his gut curl and tighten. Not good.

Shifting slightly, Gaara strained his eyes against the minute characters running across the laminated pages. Scanning them briefly, he quickly picked a meal that didn't look too horrible, and then set his menu down. Sakura glanced up at him.

"Already decided what you want?"

Gaara nodded.

"Hmmm." Sakura fixed an intense gaze at the page. "I can't decide whether I want their Chicken Salad or just a burger. What do you think?"

He shrugged and Sakura rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the help," she muttered sarcastically.

Gaara in turn looked away, watching as a waitress approached them, her heavily lidded eyes fixed on him. The woman's nametag had _Tsukie _scrawled across it in tasteful cursive, fitting to the restaurant's setting. Gaara glanced back at Sakura, watching as she came aware of the waitress who ignored her in favor of Gaara.

Sakura raised her eye brows, seeing a thin waist and large chest standing next to their table. Looking up, she saw it was their waitress, who had her eyes practically glued to Gaara in a way that made Sakura's brow furrow.

"What can I get you guys?" the waitress said, voice husky, full lips twisting into an inviting smile. Sakura felt her already shallow smile twitch and fall as the woman leaned forward slightly towards Gaara. She was just not in the mood for this shit.

Sakura didn't hear what Gaara ordered—a steak, maybe? Or was it a burger?—but watched with raised eyebrows as the woman slowly turned to Sakura, the waitresses smile falling and voice falling flat. _Lovely, _Sakura thought sarcastically. Unfortunately, the waitress's words still seemed pleasant enough, so Sakura couldn't do anything drastic.

"And what can I do for you?"

"Uhm…." Sakura stared at her menu for a moment, "Could I ask you a question? What do you think would be better—the chicken salad, or a burger? I've never been here before, so…."

The waitress shrugged, "they're both pretty good. _You _should probably order the salad."

Sakura cracked her knuckles conspicuously under the table. "I'll take the burger."

The waitress _hmph'd_ and nodded, scribbling down their orders, then sauntering away after giving Gaara a playful wink. Sakura scowled. Gaara tilted a non-existent eyebrow in her direction; face almost seeming to ridicule her, his mouth twisted in a half smirk as he evaluated her expression. Sakura's scowl deepened.

"Found a new girlfriend, I see," she muttered, crossing her arms as she leaned back in the cushioned booth.

"Maybe," he replied, voice—was he teasing her?

Sakura furrowed her face in consternation, focusing on the grainy wood of the table in front of her. If she looked really closely, she thought she saw a coffee stain.

"Whatever," she said after a few moment of silence, "I've got guys going after me all the time too."

Gaara copied her position, leaning back, arms crossed. She could feel the warmth of his legs under the table.

"Oh, really?" he said. This was so strange, but Sakura swore that they were flirting. Her usually stoic neighbor was _flirting_ with her. The man who acted like her very presence was a pebble in his shoe actually looked like he actually _enjoyed_ being with her.

Sakura suppressed a Cheshire cat grin. She was going to love this.

"Yep." She nodded. "They're all over me. I can barely get to the corner store and back."

"I've heard of alternate realities," Gaara said, lips twitching.

Sakura grinned wickedly, "I'm sure you have. I bet you know _all _about them. I've got proof to back up my claims. You can even ask Naruto. He was one of 'em."

Gaara didn't show any outward physical movement, but on the inside his chest clenched. He hadn't really cared for the Naruto kid before, but now he felt like ripping the idiots face of and shoving it somewhere unpleasant. Gaara shifted slightly, trying not to reveal his discomfort at this awful revelation. Could he actually be feeling slightly possessive about the girl? Maybe it was better not to think of it.

Gaara discarded the thoughts from his mind, instead focusing on providing a witty reply.

"I can see how you would be proud-it being your sibling and a social reject who lusted after you. You should boast more."

Sakura gaped. "Okay, buster, first off—Naruto and I are not blood-related, you know that. We're just really close, _like _siblings. Second off—there have been others, like-like…."

"Hm."

"Oh! I know! Like Kiba! He was panting all over me." Sakura sniffed proudly. "And I think his dog like me too."

"Is that the only one? This 'Kiba' and your semi-sibling. You have done much in your life. You must feel accomplished."

Sakura ignored the way the dim light flickered across his face, making his features stand out even more, his shaded eyes under shadow, and his pale orbs peering out with an eerie glow. He was mesmerizing, and Sakura found herself addicted to his appearance. His low voice didn't help the matter either, nor the way his eyes stared at her as though he was going to eat her. Sakura felt her belly do a flip-flop as her cheeks flushed. She hadn't felt this way since….

Oh _god. _She was _lusting _after Gaara. Gaara! Of all people, Gaara! Maybe it was the way he had suddenly started talking to her, or the way his body had began to lean towards her, she imitating his position. Maybe it was the stimulating conversation or the way their legs touched which she was horribly sensitive to. Maybe it was the way she hadn't ever been that sexual, her one experience being an absolute disaster—the only other times she was pleasured was by her own fingers, and that was shallow at best.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was the way Gaara seemed to actually be interested in her, despite the fact that he treated her like an annoyance. He took care of her and kept an eye on her, unwittingly comforting her. In fact, in just the few weeks she had known him, he had saved her countless of times, and not just physically either. He had been there—even made her tea. _Tea!_—on Halloween, when she had caught a haunting glimpse of the past. And he had helped her when she was burnt—though she still thought he had overreacted just a tad—and had walked her home.

(He had even picked her lock open—considering he was the one who had locked the door when she was without her keys. In hindsight, maybe that wasn't exactly a good thing though.)

Sakura allowed a twist of her lips, leaning forward on the table slightly. Really, this odd sort of banter they had going on was kind of fun.

"Oh, well, you know, the other names kind of slip my mind. Too many to count and all that, you know?"

Gaara had leaned forward as well, and the foot between their faces shrunk just a little bit. Folding her hands below her chin, Sakura awaited his answer.

Unfortunately they were interrupted as their meals were shoved under their noses, clattering against the table harshly. Sakura jerked back as Gaara's eyes flickered towards the waitress who stared flatly at her. the waitress's dark hair, which had been pulled back before, was now flowing strategically down her back and over one shoulder. Sakura frowned, eyes flickering between _Tsukie _and Gaara.

Tsukie smiled at him. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No." Gaara's voice was flat and emotionless.

Sakura almost waved a banner of victory at Gaara's answer. Even if she hadn't been having a good time with him, she still would have been offended by the waitress's blatant interest in the man. Even if they weren't, most people would probably consider her and Gaara a couple, which meant _Tsukie _was moving into her territory with no respect for Sakura's boundaries. It was bad enough when that happened with Naruto, or even _Kakashi_—which was always quite disturbing—but with it happening to her with Gaara. Well, that was just unacceptable.

Sakura smiled genially at the waitress as the woman skulked off. Turning to her burger, she caught Gaara's eyes upon her once again. The smirk was gone, and instead impassiveness replaced the mirthful facial expression that he had worn just a few minutes before. Somehow, though, she got the impression that he was studying her, thinking, contemplating on something that she didn't understand. She looked away, digging into her fatty burger instead, making a mess as it slowly fell apart with each bite.

"Dammit. These things are just impossible to eat, no matter where you get them."

Sakura glanced over to Gaara's plate, seeing the chicken salad that she had been contemplating earlier. She eyed it like a starving wolf, before glancing up at the stoic man. Gaara's eyebrow quirked as he caught sight of her attention.

"Hey, Gaara, you know, if you want a bite of my burger, you can have one."

"No thank you."

"You sure? It's really good. Delicious, actually. We could, you know, trade some bites, or something like that."

"A kind offer, but, no."

Sakura mumbled something, the corners of her lips facing south as she leaned forward, "are you really, _really _sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

Sakura let out a huge, grumbling sigh, then straitened her shoulders. "Okay, I give up." She bit her lip. "Can I have a bite of your salad?"

Gaara let the silence hang for a moment, bringing another bite of breaded chicken and lettuce to his mouth, before giving her his attention. He shrugged. "If you want."

Sakura grinned, grabbing her fork out of its napkin role and reaching across the table to dig into Gaara's plate. He sat back, watching her as she inhaled a few mouthfuls before she looked curiously up at him.

"Aren't you going to eat? Eat!"

Gaara remained motionless, boring a hole through her forehead. Sakura grimaced inwardly. He was really good at unnerving people, and Sakura couldn't help but wonder if he had ever interrogated people for a living. He would be an asset to the government, or wherever interrogators were used.

And would he stop staring at her? Jeeze!

Sakura paused in the attack on Gaara's dinner, putting her fork down as she sat back. "Well, does that mean you're done as well? Should I call for the check?"

Gaara just shrugged, and Sakura nearly groaned at his regression. Where had his mocking attitude gone? Why was he back to being all…stupid?

With an air of exasperation, Sakura called for the check, not even energetic enough to glower at the flirtatious waitress, who took forever in ringing them up, and looked smug as Sakura and Gaara had another small tiff over who was going to pay for their dinner. Sakura won, but barely.

Her shoulders slumped as they exited onto the street, finding it even colder than before. She hadn't realized a man could be so taxing. Gaara was on the same scale of energy-sucking as Naruto, which was pretty bad.

"Well," said Sakura, "we ready to go home? Or is there anything else you want to do. It's my treat, remember?"

Gaara offered another shrug and Sakura let out a meaningless noise of frustration.

"What is _wrong _with you? We were just having a nice time, so why do you have to go all weird on me now? Did I do something? If you didn't want me to eat your food you should have just said something."

Gaara paused in his stride, turning to look at her with flat eyes. He raised an eyebrow, voice still, unspoken. Sakura threw her hand up in the air, emitting a loud 'bah!' before stalking off. Gaara followed.

They traveled like that for a few minutes, getting to be about a block and a half from the apartment before Sakura whirled about—colliding right with Gaara's chest. After a short moment of disorientation, she glared up at Gaara.

"You know what your problem is?" she hissed, poking him in the chest, "You have a stick up your ass! You think—I dunno—that you're too good for other people—like me!"

Gaara's brow furrowed as her thin finger jabbed into his chest. It didn't hurt, but he couldn't help but be annoyed. Clasping her wrist, Gaara muttered, "stop it."

"-and you treat me like shit just because I'm different and not pretty!-"

"-stop it."

"-do you even give a damn about anyone-"

Gaara snarled, gripping Sakura's shoulders and pushing her away, "I said—_stop it_!"

Sakura fell silent, eyes wide with shock. Slowly, ever so slowly, her body unwound, dewy orbs dropping to the ground as he eyes narrowed with shame.

"I'm sorry…." She whispered, lips trembling, "…sorry…"

Gaara froze for a moment, and silently pulled her into an embrace. It was an urge he couldn't deny, something that his body called for, something that he just _had _to do. And she was so warm, her feminine curves pressing against him as her back shook with suppressed sobs. Gaara didn't say anything, just dug his face and hand into her pastel locks, his other arm wrapped around her waist.

He had never held a woman like this. He had held them out of lust, or violence, but never in comfort, caring. He felt her arms slowly snake around his neck, her chest pushed up against his, her damp face buried into his shoulder. Warmth coiled up his stomach, making his fingers itch and his breath come out slightly quicker than normal.

He was on pins and needles, like every part of his body she touched came out of a deep sleep, and it was painful, but exhilarating.

Without thought, moving on something akin to instinct, Gaara reached a gentle palm to her chin, lifting up her face so it was a mere hairs-width away. Their breaths intermingled, slightly ragged as the cool breeze whispered around them and down the deserted street. A streetlight's watery beams tried to reach them, but were unable to permeate the shadows that grew in the space of their bodies.

Ever so slightly, Sakura tensed her calves, shifting her body up, and hesitantly pressing her lips to his.

It was a soft kiss, slow and sweet and nervous. Gaara's arms wrapped around her body, pulling her away from the street lamp and into the shade of a darkened building. The heat between them cackled warmly, slithering up her stomach, into her hands and face, releasing from her breath as she sighed into Gaara's inquisitive lips.

After a few moments of the blissful embers consuming them, Sakura pulled away. They were still tangled together, but her face was inaccessible as she ducked down and to the side, eye focused on the damp street. After a few seconds of reveling in the feel of Gaara's muscled form, she pulled away completely.

"…That was…unexpected…"

Gaara was silent, nodding slightly. His arms fell to his side, feeling awkward and uncomfortable at their sudden emptiness. He wanted to grab for her again, but she had moved away.

"I'm just…not sure…" she whispered, voice weak, "this is a lot."

In a way, Gaara understood. What had just happened was certainly not planned by either of them. He had expected to have a horrible night accompanied by her incessant chapter, and she… probably hadn't expected him to be the best of company either.

Nodding his head, Gaara emerged from the shadows as well. What they had just done…probably shouldn't be repeated. Sakura was one of those nice types of girls who married with a nice type of man who went and had nice type of babies in a nice type of suburban neighborhood.

Gaara was not the nice type of guy, and of course what had just happened would probably be considered a mistake in the book of her life and in the morning she would look back on it with regret. He ignored the feeling of discomfort as his chest tightened. Gaara had already decided, when he had first met Sakura weeks ago, that she was an annoyance and not a girl with whom he wanted to share air. He'd just have to keep on track with that mindset.

Setting his resolution, Gaara watched as she straitened and gifted him with a wry, crooked smile. Her cheeks were still stained a deep shade of red.

"Let's…let's head home."

Gaara nodded and strode over to her side, hands burying themselves into his pockets. His eyes widened as her arm slipped through the crook on his elbow, effectively inter-mingling their body heat.

They ambled in silence the short distance to the apartment complex, and then paused outside their doorways. Sakura unlatched herself from him, getting out her keys, the focusing her attention on him.

"Well, we should do that again."

Gaara's brow rose. She wanted to go out with him again?

"I had fun, and you didn't seem to have such a bad time yourself, yeah?"

Gaara shrugged and Sakura's grin lowered a bit, but she kept vigilance in her positive attitude.

"Good night."

"'night."

As he closed his apartment door behind him, Gaara couldn't help but let his lips twitch slightly in an intangible smile.

Another night out really might not be so bad.

**Oooo000OOO000oooO**

Hinata rubbed her eyes as she walked down the hallway, repressing the strained groan that threatened to garble out her throat. Graveyard shifts were really not her thing, especially considering she had already worked all day. If she hadn't been raised to be such a polite person, she probably would have thrown vulgarity after vulgarity at the irresponsible nurse who had called in. Her excuse was that she was sick, but Hinata knew that wasn't the case when she heard a man's voice in the background saying something…inappropriate.

Pausing in her shuffle, Hinata looked down at the clipboard she held in dry hands. Being a nurse meant constantly washing your hands. Being at the hospital meant washing your hands with cheap soap. Washing your hands with cheap soap meant having dry hands. It was a long, awful cycle that never ended and just added to Hinata's extreme dislike of her job.

With a groggy mind, Hinata walked from room to room, peeking into the patients windows to see if they needed any help, or were asleep. She checked each name off as she walked by, finding each person to be silent in slumber.

Nearing the end to the list, she noticed a note left on the bottom. It was another room number. From the nearly illegible chicken scratch, she thought it said _room 203. _

Forcing her eyelids to stay upright, Hinata began to trek her way through the sterile corridors, feeling as though her legs were trying to sift through thick mud. She nearly bumped into the door of the room before she even noticed she had reached her destination.

Flipping through some of the pages after the check-up list, she found the patients information. Apparently it was a gunshot wound. They had extricated the bullet without issue, but the blood loss had been extensive, hence why the man had yet to awake. Hinata made a mental note that the drugs were probably more effective at putting him to sleep than the blood loss. Morphine tended to do that to you.

Slipping into the private space, Hinata closed the door behind her with barely a hush. Her shoes made a soft tapping noise as she crossed the tiled floor to the patient's bedside. He didn't even stir.

As she drew up upon him, Hinata's eyes widened. This was the man that had come in earlier by ambulance, the one she had cleared the way for.

He looked better, considering he wasn't teetering over the edge of death, and the blood once covering him had long since been cleaned up. In fact, if he didn't look so sickly, Hinata would say he was quite handsome. The skin was pale and smooth, still lovely despite the bags he had under his eyes and above his emaciated cheeks.

Hinata glanced back at the list, noting his name with curiosity.

…_Uchiha, Sasuke_…

**A/N: **Okay everybody; give a big round of applause to AsuraTwilight (quizilla username—will get name soon) who has recently taken up the grueling task of being my beta. Sorry for the long update, but I hope the added length of the chapter will make up for that. Again, forgive me.

Until next time…

emeraldoni


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